Out of Sight
by LoweFantasy
Summary: Sequel to Out of Hand, but can be read on its own. And this time, Mai is sent solo on a case Professor Davis just can't be bothered with, which is saying something as it's on their own campus. Both Mai and the Professor seriously doubt any ghosts are on this case, but since the president is asking...btw, what's all this about being engaged to a high schooler?
1. Midterms Yay

Out of Sight

Sequel to 'Out of Hand'

Or just Book 3

By Lowefantasy

1

"Reporting for duty, sir!" I did my most rigid salute.

I got the expected droll stare. "How many times have I asked you to not…whatever. Here."

A manila folder was flopped on the blackety black desk between us. He turned back to his computer as though to resume an interesting episode of a TV show that could never exist because I swear my professor has a phobia of cable, dish, and videogames.

"What'chya watching?" I asked.

"I'm reading," he said tersely. "As should you." He gestured his chin to the folder, his eyes not once leaving the screen.

Wondering if I could pull off an embarrassing joke based off his answer, I took the folder and opened it. A stack of papers were clipped inside, or whatever the hell those bendy metal arms that go through holes in the top are called. Hey, my word calendar didn't include office supplies.

The first thing I saw was the school's logo.

"I'm getting kicked out!" I screeched, mostly just to screw with him.

"For the love of—" he scratched the back of his head hard, something he did sometimes when frustrated. "I said read! It's from the president of the school. He wants me to look into a case I'm about sure is just a building facing age and structural failure."

I at least read the first paragraph before asking, "And you won't just do the tests to prove it to him why?"

"Because I have better things to do than calm the delirious fantasies of idiots."

"Uh, dude, that idiot is your boss."

"Rank doesn't change intelligence."

I shrugged. "Just saying." I looked back down on the folder. Since Professor Davis didn't seem ready to kick me out yet, I took a seat in a blackety black reading chair, propped my legs up on one of the armrests, and got to reading.

A cursory glance at the symptoms the president and the teachers of the old science building were complaining of seemed to suggest a poltergeist—and that was all. And, having been in the building myself on multiple occasions to attend my physics class, I too had my doubts. The building was so old it still had that brown industrial carpet from the age when poop colored carpet was a good idea. In various rooms, there were stains on the ceiling, and in the maintenance room, which I went into a grand total of once on a tour, by yours truly Jeff, I thought I could make out the old outline of a coal boiler.

"And you're certain it's structural without doing the tests why?" I asked.

"Because all of the incidents have a legitimate explanation that connects to a building that is simply old and possibly settling to one side," he said. "Also, I don't have the time. It's midterms."

I gave him my own droll stare. I'd been practicing off of him. "And I don't?"

"This is your midterm test. You get to do all the tests proving me right."

"And if you're wrong?"

Another 'you're stupid' look.

"I've already walked through the building and read its history," he looked back to whatever enthralling thing he was reading. "There is no reason for it to be haunted. Besides, it's an excellent opportunity to test you in a safe environment. You did get my recommendation for medium training, yes?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Yes."

"Have you two set up a time to practice?"

I wrinkled my nose farther. "No."

He looked at me again, this time his cheek against his hand.

"Masako Hara is perfectly capable—"

"—full of herself celebrity who thinks she has, not just you, but everyone wrapped around her finger." I said with a growl. "And FYI, if she comes into your office naked, you were warned."

He sighed, the long, heavy, exasperated sigh.

"You're being unreasonable in your evaluation of her," he said. "From all reports and meeting her myself, she is simply confident in her abilities and perfectly polite."

"Yeah, maybe to you."

"What exactly happened between you two to get you this way?"

I stiffened. It had only been a phone call. And a brief visit that would scar Ayako and I for life.

"She…she thought she'd show of her medium power in our apartment," I said, looking away. "And channeled someone who use to live there, and they kinda happened to be a perv—but that's not it! It's what she said afterwards too. She didn't even apologize at all, and the things she said were just rude."

"Hmm," he said, as a sign he had lost interest.

"I got hit in the head and almost humped by a girl!"

"That isn't necessarily her fault and will you please stop bloody yelling." He was pinching his nose now. Irritated. "Whatever the case, you need to put it aside and accept those lessons with her, for your own safety, or you'll never be a capable ghost hunter. You'll just be crazy."

"Seriously considering changing my major," I said.

He didn't even grace that with his attention.

I crossed my arms. "Did you hear what I said? I just threatened to change my major and take away you're top pupil."

"Hmph. You are not my top pupil. The most psychically powerful, but not the cream of the crop."

"I'm still threatening it! You could at least try to stop me."

"Why?" A click of the mouse and a scroll of the screen. "I already know it's an empty threat."

"Oh yeah? How so."

He didn't say anything for a minute, his blues eyes shifting back and forth across the screen. He didn't scroll down anymore though, even though there was only one paragraph on there and a genius like him had to be a fast reader.

I threw down my hands. "Fine. Flippity fine. If it will keep stupid dead kids from possessing me and letting me go through their crap, then fine. But I'd like to see you act as maturely after getting restrained and humped by the same gender!"

"That would never happen because I'd never get restrained in the first place."

I dug my fingertips down my cheeks, pulling down my lower eyelids. "Ugh, you're so arrogant. Maybe you and Masako deserve each other."

"Whatever," he flicked a hand at me, eyes to the screen. "Can you go now so I can read?"

"What about tools? Or teammates? Do I get someone to help me out?"

"You get to find that help, as most ghost hunters do. As for equipment, I've already dropped off what you need at your apartment." He turned to give me what could only be his blood-chilling glare. "You already know what will happen should you damage any of it."

I stiffened. "Swift and immediate death, sir."

The glare softened and the corner of his mouth twitched.

And for a brief moment, that could have taken a full 3 seconds, he just looked at me, straight in the eyes, unflinching. My heart tripped a bit over itself. What was he looking for?

But then it was back to the ever important screen, which he finally scrolled. "I expect a thorough report of the likes I've never seen, at least from you."

I sighed. "Yeah yeah, I got it." I already had some ideas in my head as to who I could ask for help in this midterm endeavor.

"Oh, and Mai?"

"Yes, oh blackety black one?"

"It would be best if you didn't tell Takigawa you have a fiancé."

I winced. "Hey, you can't switch from professor to girl-friend-giving-love-advice like that, it's creepy as hell and still none of your business." I paused. "And I don't have a fiancé!"

"Didn't you promise to marry that Chance boy?"

I flushed. "How'd you…wait, did I say something about that when you came over that one time?"

"You were sleep deprived and, frankly, rather feverish," he said, as though that explained it all. "You said you'd promised to marry the kid if you didn't get whoever you wanted at the moment, which I'm presuming is not Takigawa, so I thought it best you not tell him. He seems the type to get desperate."

Heat and shivers ran up and down my neck and back. What if I…did I tell him? Did I say he was the one? Oh God, please tell me my sleepy half-conscious self hadn't been that suicidal.

But…the professor wasn't acting any different. Which either meant, no, saving grace, I hadn't thrown myself into a hole, or he heard and…

Now that was just depressing.

"Guess I'll see you in class," I said, opening the door. It was unfair how fast my mood was plummeting when I already knew Professor Davis was out of my league by a few miles.

He said nothing, and I didn't expect anything, as I closed the door behind me with a snap.


	2. People Suck

**Hi! I know these chapters have been painfully short, but I've been fighting an infection the past week or so, combined with pregnancy and anxiety and a 5 year old who is taking advantage of his weakened mother, and you don't have a lot of juice left for writing. But I write because I have to keep going. I need this to stay sane, to remind myself I am more than just pregnant, tired, and sick.**

2

As the Professor said, in order to become a good parapsychologist/ghost hunter, you need to know enough about everything.

But I still had to ask the metal works instructor where I could find a building code contractor who'd have mercy on a college student and let me borrow his survey equipment. That Naru hadn't included in my package of goodies. For that case, neither had he included cameras. Just one thermograph. Jerk.

The contractor hovered over my shoulder as I opened and closed the tripod around the building, squinting through the display and taking the measurements. At least he stayed by the tripod when I stuffed the rather unwieldy depth sensor into the soil next to the building.

"I'm still surprised you know how to do any of this," he said, though he frowned through the compliment.

"Lots of haunting can be explained by structure flaws," I said for the uptenth time. "And it's just basic trigonometry." Which I actually did pretty good at.

"Well, there's a lot more to my job than trigonometry, I can promise you." This time he didn't even bother to hide his sour tone.

And since it was only his good will allowing me to use his tools without charge in the first place, I kept my mouth shut. But I could've reassured him I had no interest in taking his job from him or professing I knew everything about it. Ghost hunters just needed to know enough.

"Seems the foundation on the west side has been compromised by the clay underneath," I said after an hour, when the contractor was beginning to look beyond antsy. "The entire area beneath the foundation is a bedrock clay mixture, but there's more clay here than bedrock and I guess lots of water or shifting took advantage of that." I stood up, eyeing the results of my calculations. "The North-West corner is an entire five inches lower than the rest of the corners."

"Does that mean you're done?"

Even if I wasn't, I was certainly done with him. "Yeah. Thanks again for letting me borrow your tools."

He 'harrumphed.' "What kind of proper college doesn't have surveillance equipment? It's used in geography and architecture as well."

I kind of paled at that. I hadn't thought to ask the geology professor…

"Well, you can't have it all!" I said cheerily, being sure to do the straps right as I gave back his stuff.

He didn't say good-bye. He just took his stuff and left me in the gloom of late winter afternoon.

My stomach grumbled and I sighed. My fingers felt numb.

And I still had calculus 1 homework to do tonight.

Back home, Ayako greeted me from our beat-up thrift store table, munching on a bowl of mac and cheese with olives and hot dogs mixed in.

"More's on the stove," she said with a greeting smile.

I grunted in thanks and kept my hands around the pot for a minute to thaw them before scooping up some whatever it was.

"You look like you met a special grade of stupid."

"More like a special grade of rude," I said. "And I still got to get measurements from the inside. Why did they have to build it so freaking huge? It's going to take me all weekend to finish the report on just the foundation and frame. Ugh."

"There's a reason I quit."

"I thought it was because Professor Davis was too much of an asshole?"

"I can handle asshole if it keeps to itself and others," she took another bite and swallowed. "When are you going to get a boyfriend?"

"Random much?"

She shrugged. "You're a junior in college and haven't gone out once and, as that guy says, you're not ugly." Her expression blanched. "Are you gay?"

"No! I like boys! I like boys a lot!"

"Just not enough to date them," she said with a pink little smirk. "Or is Takigawa getting in the way?"

"No, I have other guys interested."

She dropped her spoon with a loud clank. "News! Who?"

And since Chance was technically statutory rape ready to happen, "None of your business. You'd just tease me and make fun of me anyways."

"True there." More chewing. "Anything progress with the professor?"

I raised my eyebrow as I raised my first spoonful of stuff. "Progress?"

She threw her head back in exasperation. "Don't give me that crap. You were cuddled up to him on YOUR bed, sleeping away, and then there was that time you came out his room while we were at that mansion—"

"No progress," I said bluntly. This wasn't exactly the conversation I wanted to have. Ever.

Her brow furrowed with her frown. "What kind of crap is this? I know you like him."

"Negative 2 and ten."

"You are not a negative 2. And I'm sorry, but professors don't just come over to check on students that have missed too many classes and snuggle up with said student in bed."

"He's a friend."

She snorted. "He's a friend," she repeated, as though it were the stupidest thing she had ever heard. "Ask him out," she said through a mouthful of mac.

"No."

"Write him a love note."

"Heck no."

"Corner him in his office and—"

"NO!"

She dropped her face to her palms. "Gawd, you're so boring. He practically slept with you—"

"And he's a friend," I said, harsher than I meant it, standing and taking my bowl with me. "And I have calculus homework, so excuse me."

In my room, I slid down my door and stared into my bowl, suddenly not all that hungry.

"I totally told him," I whispered.

After all, conscious was still conscious and I was bound to remember eventually.

And he had done nothing.


	3. I Swear She's Some Kind of Zombie Witch

**Baby is doing stretch outs now that include a head butt and tiny feet pressing into my intestines. I cleaned my living room today and fixed my own LED TV. Madly pleased with myself. Now, sleepies...**

3

"Powers assigned to 'mediums' are often simply that of a person sensitive to the collective subconsciousness and are often personalities that are very attune to others feelings and emotions."

As she said this, the tiny Japanese beauty, kimono and all, gave me a look that said it all.

"What, was it my sarcasm?" I asked.

She said nothing. Just sighed.

"In a minute or so, a colleague of mine will come in and we'll see how well you do accepting spirits into your vessel or even simply spiritual awareness. Before then, I'd like to go over the principals of defending oneself from possession."

"Isn't that the real reason why I'm here? No offense, but I sort of already know the answer to the first part. It involved a lot of puke and pain. Hard to forget."

She just looked at me. It wasn't unlike when Naru was giving me the 'you're stupid' look, but somehow it was more insulting coming from a rich and supposedly powerful little beauty like her. I couldn't even tell if she was older or younger than me. Arrogant little—

"There are two ways of protection," she continued, as though I had said nothing. "The first is more for powerful or more sensitive mediums, who tend to draw in whatever spirit may be around. For them, daily meditation and mental training are a need. Daily meditation and mental training are essentially becoming familiar with your own mind, even your own subconscious, in such a way that you instantly know when a foreign thought invade. It requires a knowledge of oneself, so as to recognize the presence of others. Once one has verified the presence or effect of a spirit, knowing oneself and astute mental constitution are key."

"Mental…constitution…" I repeated, raising an eyebrow. "So, like, brains ability to fight of sickness?"

Another Naru-like 'you're stupid' look.

"You need to stand up for yourself and refuse to give away the stage of your mind," she said, flatly.

"What if you get just new thoughts? Like, what if—"

"That's different from knowing oneself and desires."

"Okay, but isn't part of changing oneself changing said oneself and desires?"

"Changing, or growth, is an active decision that is carried on overtime. Possessions are much more temporary, as a spirit rarely has the focus or durability as one with a body and is pushed out eventually."

Still didn't quite get it, buuut, okay. "So why bother with exorcism?"

Another stupid look. "In those cases, often times the host is in danger or will not survive the possession. Unless you like puke and blood."

I raised my hands. "I get it. You're going to help me have the ability to choose who possesses me and when and all that dazzle and glam."

Which earned me another sigh from her, which really irked me.

"Hey, you were the one that took on the pervy delight at my house to show off your power."

"That was not my intention," she said blithely. "And I didn't have much choice. There isn't much variety on a college campus." Her face wrinkled up as though the thought of a college campus was the same as a flatulence laced couch that had been puked and peed on till the original color became indecipherable.

I kept my couch pretty clean, thank you very much.

"Now, until our guest arrives, I would like you to close your eyes and meditate on the nature of your own being."

I did so, even if this is what we mainly did the last time we had gotten together, and closed my eyes. Nature of my own being…um….sarcasm, the taste of plastic-wrapped cheese squares, and the _Bevis and Butthead_ cartoon?

"Are you honest?" she started asking in what I could only describe as a 'yoga voice.'

I wasn't supposed to answer her. Just my brain. And, well, I thought I was pretty honest. If the dress makes your butt look big, I'll tell you your butt looks big. Though I don't see what the problem is, since guys love big butts. I haven't told Takigawa about Chance or Chance about Takigawa, though, I didn't think it was their business, and Takigawa knows where I stand in our relationship…I was clear enough with that, right?

Was it dishonest if I didn't tell my professor that I thought he was the cat's meow?

"Are you friendly? Are you lonely?"

I hated this question. I had plenty of classmate funsie friends—you know, the kind you only meet in class but have the greatest time with. And there was Ayako, but I still haven't figured out if I'm social enough. How do you even know that? How do you even know if you're close enough friends or whatever? Do I need to be comfortable farting in their face or something? Because that's just rude, why would you do that to anyone let alone someone you like?

Lonely? Hard to miss something you can't quite remember, I guess.

The questions didn't go for much longer when a knock came at the door, signaling an end to our 'yogi time.'

Imagine my surprise when former Asian assistant to the professor, Lin, wheels in through the door in an electric wheelchair. Even sitting down he still seemed tall.

"Oh. Wow, hey!" I regretted that 'wow' the moment I said it.

Because you just don't say wow when you see someone for the first time after their attempt at suicide and the drastic changes it caused.

His black eyes seemed to not really care that I was in the room, as he rolled around to the side of Masako's poofy chair, narrowly avoiding the edge of some magazines on the coffee table between us.

I got no 'hey' back.

"I've been told you are already acquainted, so we'll skip niceties for time's sake," she said, leaning forward to clear off the table a bit.

"I won't be using that," he said, and his voice was as deep and dramatic as I remembered it.

She looked to him in question, which, in answer, he pulled up a little armrest table, hand jerking every few seconds into weird directions. From a pouch hanging on the side of his wheelchair, he brought up a candle in a firm candle holder and an incense stick. He almost knocked the display over with a random jerk when he reached down to get a notebook and pen.

"Lin will be summoning spirits at random, or otherwise, making this a general spiritually ready atmosphere," said Masako. "At first, we will only be establishing what it feels like to be possessed. Then, once you have recognized that feeling, we will begin with defenses."

Oh. That sounded fun.

My stomach clenched hard.

"Um, do I have to let my body be taken on a joy trip or—"

Lin started…whistling, except it wasn't the usual kind of whistling I heard every day. It was an eerie, almost singing kind of whistle, that made me wonder why mankind ever bothered making flutes.

Then I was opening my eyes without remembering closing them. Masako looked faintly amused and Lin hadn't changed.

I looked at the clock. Five minutes had just gone and vanished at me.

"Huh?!"

"I take it you don't remember," said Masako. "That too is a skill, though it is also up the compatibility of spirits."

"Why are my feet all sweaty?" I asked.

"Tell me what you can remember of your change in thinking before the possession."

I blinked at her. Hard. "Umm…last thing I remember thinking was pretty whistling."

She made something like a little snort into her sleeve.

"Simple thinking for simple minds," she said, as though simply naming off a symptom from a textbook.

"Hey, I get by pretty alright in my physics and calculus classes—"

"We'll try again. Try to clear your mind and pay attention. Lin?"

The pretty whistling began.

And I was opening my eyes again, this time kneeling on the floor with my top half thrown over the coffee table.

"What the hell—"

"Please tell me you remember something this time."

"Well excuse me, all the other times I was possessed I could remember them fairly well!"

"That was because the possession had started long before the spirit influenced your body," she said. "It influenced your mind to be aligned with it first, so your thoughts became its thoughts, your mind its mind."

"Then what the hell is this! Speed dating?"

She gave me a tight smile.

I was instructed to meditate before the next whatever this was, and I did actually get some time to think "Wait, that wasn't right," before I was waking up again, this time sweaty all over. More meditation and the next spirit must have been lackluster, for I only got sleepy and sort of jabbered stuff my mind hadn't thought of first. Even their words were kind of blegh. There was a closing sale at Joannes that I needed to remember coupons for, apparently.

From there came mind flinging variance. Plain blackouts and half dazed jabber or just staring at a wall, feeling particularly different. She did not praise me or insult me, no matter the outcome. She seemed to believe it really was a luck of the draw. Though when she started telling me to defend myself by 'standing up for myself and refusing to give up the platform of my mind,' absolutely nothing happened. If anything, I got my biggest blackout yet of 8 minutes, according to my phone.

At the end of the two hours, my head ached something nasty and I had the general feel of one who gets dragged out of the world of a book one has been reading for 24 hours. It felt awkward to move in my own limbs, and despite the cold, I was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Don't even mention my feet. Practically waded through a river.

"Practice your meditations and defense," she said, before closing the door on me, leaving her and wheelchair Lin to themselves.

I ambled down the sidewalk, half forgetting where I was headed too. It was almost night out and I wasn't too far from campus. Dirty couch. Oh yeah, home. Apartments a few blocks behind the college storage facility…where was I again?

I ended up standing at a lamppost with my forehead against its cold metal for longer than I cared to check.

I bolted straight and shook my head hard.

"Come on, fartknocker," I muttered to myself. "Can't be wandering around after dark."

I continued walking.

And ended up walking into the corner of the college library.

I rubbed my sore forehead hard.

"Storage facility, storage facility," I muttered, which should not be far from here, but still, why the hell had I come this way? Wait, was this the way I came?

And then I was walking through the newer science building hallways as though heading to class. I even reached up to my shoulder to feel for my backpack.

I stopped abruptly in front of the lecture room Professor Davis often used and swore.

"What the freak did she do to me?" I cracked my already sore head against the too bright, white walls. "Wake up!"

"Mai?"

Head still connected with the wall, I twisted my face around to see the blank face of Professor Davis himself stepping out of the door.

"Yo," I said, or more like grunted.

"Did you need me for something?" he looked up and down the halls, as though expecting someone. "I do have office hours for a reason, you know."

"It's not like I want to be here," I said irritably.

He raised an eyebrow. "Yet here you are."

"Because freaking Masako ran my brain through a strainer. I can't focus worth balls."

"Never understood that saying," he said, closing the door behind him. "Usually a man's genitals are considered quite valuable."

"Shut up, I'm busy going brain dead."

"So the practice did not go well." He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat, the handle of his brief/bookcase bag thing hanging from his wrist. "I didn't expect you to be this sensitive. Did you manage to accept a spirit?"

I grunted. "Yeah, like, all of them?"

His eyebrows shot high. "Are you being sarcastic?"

"Well, every time stupid Lin whistled, crap went down." I hit my head against the wall again. "Brain come home, brain come home, jiggedy jiggedy jog."

"I'm surprised you're not home already if it's this bad," he said, moving to walk past me.

"Not for any lack of trying. I keep getting lost."

That made him stop. "Did you move?"

"No, weren't you listening? I said I can't focus worth balls, and I mean balls in the useless sense, like the balls of a drug-addicted rapist riddled with genetic defects."

"You seemed focus enough to quip your usual jokes."

I just groaned at that and hit my head again.

"Though you should probably stop that. There's already a bruise forming on your head."

"Walked into the library…" I mumbled.

Naru heaved a sigh. "Come on. I'll drive you home. She's given you protection for tonight at least, right?"

"Huh? What for?"

His eyes narrowed and darkened.

"It's common knowledge that after such exercises, one is left extra vulnerable to unwanted spirits."

I just sort grumbled at that and pushed myself from the wall to follow him. "Guess I will be humping a chair in my sleep or something since apparently, that's the only variety of spirits we have around our place."

He did not look amused, or happy in any definition of the word. Rather, it was the same kind of cold, precise pissed off he usually radiated when a particularly stupid report or questions was brought to his attention.

"Come on. You can focus enough to follow me, right?"

I put my arms up like a zombie and cocked my head with a dry smirk.

"Brains."

A short nod. "Good. I have loads of that. You can follow the scent."

And we were off through the suddenly maze-like halls of the new science building. I kept my eyes on the black of his back, forcing myself not to look anywhere else as I walked along. Even so, it was almost like my brain fell asleep on the way from the classroom to the outside, where the cold bite of night pressed in, reminding me I might as well be soaked from all my sweating.

But the cold was useful, as it was easier to focus on my darkly dressed professor and his long strides.

_He makes that coat look good,_ I caught myself dazedly thinking. _Broad shoulders…nice…man shoulders._

"Mai, you can stop now. This is my car."

I looked up from the sidewalk I'd been wandering on, shook my head again, and turned around to see Naru standing beside a…rather ordinary little gray car though could have been any other college student's car, minus the usual dents and scratches. The paint was pristine and cared for, even if the car did look to be a good twenty years old.

"Huh," I said, pawing at the passenger window, because hell, I was so brain dead.

"Am I going to have to buckle you in?"

I opened the door and slid in. It was cold inside too. But it smelled of him, of leather and musk and coffee. While dusty, and cupholders full of empty coffee cups, his car was about as clean on the inside as it was on the outside. No clutters of trash or books like I often found in other student's cars.

I buckled up and then stared at his dangling parking pass on the rearview mirror.

Naru made a disgruntled noise. "You really are out of it."

"Guess I am honest," I said…against a plane of glass I didn't remember sticking my face to.

Man, was I tired…so tired…

Naru had somehow gotten behind me and was rubbing my shoulders in warm, calming circles. His hands trailed down my arms, chasing away cold and ache.

But…no, not Naru. This wasn't his car.

"_I had it rough too," _said the twin, and he leaned over so I could see the wide smile Naru could never duplicate.

"Hello, Gene."

"You're already talking to him?"

I woke up with a start and a rush of cold air. My professor held open the passenger side door, side lit by the plain yellow of a porch light. He once more had his bag/case thingy dangling about his wrist.

I rubbed my eyes hard, shivering like mad. My teeth chattered, loudly.

"It's warm inside. Can you spare a moment from my brother to make it to the front door at least?"

I didn't understand why he sounded so irritated with me, even if in my half-asleep state I felt like I deserved it. Yawning, or trying to yawn without biting off my tongue, I unfolded from his little gray car and started putting one foot in front of the other.

Three steps up the driveway and I realized I wasn't in Kansas anymore. That there in front of me was a house, not an apartment complex. A small house, one of the many adorable old fashioned houses that lined the streets around the college with styles as far back as the twenties, but a house nonetheless. And a big dark tree that made an entire lumpy terrain out of the front lawn.

"That yours?" I asked drowsily.

"Yes."

"You finally wanting to be ninja raped?"

He shut the car door none too kindly. "Just get in. I have protections you can use. You can sleep on my couch."

"Why does that still sound so wrong?"

"Because you're a teenage girl in college, where I'm sure 'protection' is one of your favorite topics," he said, blithely.

"Hey! Stop lumping me into your…college prejudice."

"We're not going in through the garage."

It was only then I realized I had been standing practically nose to nose with the garage door, waiting.

I dropped my forehead to the door. It resounded with a hollow, tin thrum.

Naru tugged at my sleeve. "This way, Mai."

He didn't let go of said sleeve until we had gone up the steps to the porch and reached the front door, painted a slate gray. I took in the spiderwebs on the porchlight as he got his keys out and found the keyhole.

"Got a nice green looking spider there," I said.

"You like spiders?"

"No. Don't really care."

"Then go inside already."

I walked into yet more smell of leather and coffee, though this dulled with the volume of air and framed with the scent of Pinesol cleaner and overcooked dinners of the past.

He flicked on a light, revealing a neat, comely home, furnished in darker colors that didn't quite mesh and random bursts of colors from the oddest decorations, such as an African ceremonial mask and what looked like to be Peter Pans pipes.

I just stood there in the walkway as he went about turning on the lights, revealing a small living room to the left, an even tinier dining room to the right (if a table in front of a window seat could even be called such), which what looked like a kitchen through the opposing doorway. Just like his car, I could see dust, but otherwise, his house was trash and clutter free.

"Bathrooms through the kitchen to the right. Door straight in front of you. Door to the left beside it is my bedroom, though I doubt you're grand schemes of rape will get you that far. Door across from that is my study, which I'd appreciate if you'd avoid. You have no business there anyway."

"Your warm welcomes are inspiring," I said through still clattering teeth.

He walked into the kitchen, and I heard a scrape of a pan across a stove. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No. Just leftover weenies and mac for lunch."

He didn't comment on that, but I heard a fridge opening.

"Sit down on the couch before you break something."

Wrinkling my nose at his comment, I did manage to stumble down into the little living room, which just had enough room for a small, black leather couch, a fireplace, a narrow coffee table, and an entertainment center with a modestly sized TV and sound system. I got to stare at his rather platonic DVD collection as the leather couch slowly sucked me in.

I thought I could feel Gene's hands on my shoulders again, kneading, laughter on the edge of his silence.

"Please say you won't possess me too," I muttered to the air and darkness.

I heard nothing, but I got the impression of him shaking his head, and a promise like a whisper.

Next thing I knew, Naru, definitely Naru, was standing in front of me next to his mismatching cherry wood coffee table, a bowl in his hand.

"Food," he said, clacking it down on a little square oven pad, complete with spoon. I smelled chicken and spotted rice and what could have been little squares of carrots and who knew what else.

"Thank you," I said, for once utterly sincere. I hadn't realized how hungry I had become until I smelled the soup, and my freezing hands wrapped gratefully around the near burning heat of its bowl.

Naru placed another oven pad and bowl next to me, but didn't sit down. Rather, he went to the fireplace, where he took up a cast iron shovel and started generally messing around in there. I don't know, I was too brain dead to get the details.

Just as I braved my first sip of hot soup, the crackling pop of flame tinted the living room with warm, orange light. He threw a few more logs on the newborn fire before brushing his hands on his black pants, leaving smears of gray, and finally coming to claim his own bowl of soup.

His weight flopping onto the couch next to me made me bounce a bit. A bit of my soup trickled over the brim. I licked it off.

For a time, we ate in companionable silence filled with the comforting crackling of the fire. Soon I could feel my arms and legs melting from the cold as its heat filled the living room.

"Thanks," I muttered sometime in there.

He just shrugged and sipped on.

I finished faster than I expected, full and sleepier than ever. As I leaned forward to put my empty bowl back on the oven pad, a thick, fuzzy blanket was pulled down over my shoulders.

"Naturally, being who I am, my house already has the protections necessary for you to get rest tonight," he said lightly. "Is there anything else you need?"

I think I mumbled something about jeans and sleeping in my underwear, to which I got a displeased noise.

"I'll lend you some sweatpants. Honestly, your sense of propriety…"

I flicked my pinky in the air. "Tut tut, there might be rain!" My sleepy British accent was actually pretty good.

He sighed again, though it was soft and unlike the ones he gave in exasperation or the demeaning huffs of Masako.

Warmth had begun to reach me inside. I was in Naru's house, and yet, I couldn't for the world feel nervous. It felt so peaceful and safe here as my apartment didn't quite do as well. Everything from the smell, to the fire, to the slightly dusty but comfy furniture, made me inwardly purr and curl deeper into the squishy couch, cocooned in fuzzy blanket.

Said sweats were thrown on my face in my bliss. "What's the little smile for?" he asked.

I pulled down the sweats, not particularly wanting to sit up to change, but I'd be so much more comfortable. "I like your house. It's so comfy and warm and smells nice. I'd totally be on the list if you need a roommate."

"I'd rather not stretch propriety by having a female student being my roommate. That's all levels of trouble."

"Yeah yeah yeah," I started slipping off my jeans beneath the blanket. By the time Naru realized what I was doing, I had already tossed them onto his coffee table and sucked his sweats beneath the fuzz.

He leaned against the wall and waited for me to settle down as I slipped on the oversized sweats and found an equally fuzzy, although rather flat, pillow to settle my face on. Feeling it would be awkward if I didn't say something, I said through closed eyes. "I don't like Masako. She's mean."

"Mean like me, I expect."

"I like your mean," I mumbled. "It's funny and witty. Hers is just…mean."

I heard something that could have been a breathy chuckle.

"Go to sleep. If you need anything, I'm just on the other side of the wall. But…I suspect Gene will be floating around for anything like that."

I'm pretty sure I imagined a tinge of bitterness in his tone as he turned off the light and left me to my crackling, glowing fireplace and squishy fuzz.

Within minutes I was out so deep, even Gene couldn't reach me.


	4. Totally Let My Guard Down Bad

**I'm surrounded by Mexicans. It's not that I'm racist or don't like them, it's just...I can't speak any Spanish and I'm afraid they'd be like "Why this random gringo on my porch?" Not to mention they're always throwing loud fiestas next door. When my son went out to play with a whole gaggle of kids outside our door, they turned out to be all hispanic, and I saw for the first time as my kid struggled to get involved and make friends. They wouldn't even really look at him. One girl looked like she scolded and yelled at him.**

**...I never thought I'd feel that pain. How do I approach this? **

4

I woke up because someone was making French toast. My head still ached as though I really had run it through a strainer, and I did try to go back to sleep. But, you know, the great enemies of sleeping in came in for a counter attack.

Full bladder and empty stomach.

Groaning, I sat up to find, not my mom's Navajo blanket or washed out blue sheets, but a thick fuzzy blanket on a black couch. Coals glowed in the fireplace, nibbling on a new piece of wood someone had thrown there. Soft sunlight shone through the sheer gray curtains.

From the kitchen came a quiet chink of pan and a soft sizzle.

I rubbed my eyes hard. This was weird. Yeah, I remembered why I was here, but…forget that I was in the house of the guy I liked, but my professor. I was in my professor's house. It was like passing by your homeroom teacher at the supermarket. For a moment, the two battled in my mind for dominance on just what kind of awkwardness I felt.

Bladder tapped my shoulder. I didn't have time to think about this.

The moment I stood up, the too big gray sweats I wore slid down my hips. I caught them like lightning and searched for some sort of string, but nope. I get to hold on to my pants like a derp.

I was aware of the feel of the wood floor as I shuffled to the kitchen.

Naru stood at the stove, reading something on his phone with a spatula in his other hand, two pieces of French toast sizzling in a wide pan. He looked up at me, which ruined my dream of being able to sneak into his bathroom without his notice. Oh gawd, what if he could hear me pee? Just got to stand there and—

"You look like you could have slept longer," he said, glancing back to his phone. "It is Saturday."

Thank God.

"Just the usual culprits," I mumbled before hurrying into the little hall made of doors on each side. The one forward was a bathroom with an old fashioned clawed tub with a ring-like shower curtain rod hanging from the ceiling by wire.

It took me a second to figure out the lock. It could have been a hundred years old. Well taken care for, but still old fashion and wiggly.

I switched on the sink before seating myself on the toilet. It was white, but dusty. Did he never dust?

When I came back out, Naru had a plate of French toast in one hand and syrup on the other, both which he headed towards the tiny dining room.

"Food, Mai?"

I blinked. "You sure? I mean, you don't have too…"

He came back from the dining room with one of his droll looks.

"Oh no, two slices of bread, an egg, and some milk. I'll be eating ramen for a week."

"Ugh, shut up, only I can use sarcasm. You say it like it's true."

"Just go eat. Coffee or tea?"

"Um, do I wanna wake up?" I said it more to myself than him, yawning halfway through.

Naru's mouth twitched up into a line. "I got milk too."

"I'll go with that."

The little table, which was actually a light maple wood, could have fit four people tightly. It used the window seat for seating on one side and mismatching old fashion, dark wood chairs on the other three sides. At least the chairs matched. And the furniture all had the theme of well cared for wood. None of that fake stuff.

Naru set a glass of milk beside me just as I had worked off my first bite of French toast. It was just at the right crispness, no squishy liquidy insides.

"Hey, you got it just right, boss."

"Anything using a frying pan I can cook just fine. Throw in a pot and things get complicated."

I slurped up another bite of syrupy goodness. "What about the soup last night?"

"Came from a can. I microwave it."

I giggled a bit. "Way to treat a girl to a homemade meal."

"I went for ease of eating. You were half asleep and already having conversations with my brother."

"I did that? Huh. Barely remember that."

Naru went back to the kitchen, where more sizzling of newly set French toast could be heard.

I felt a little more awake once I had eaten a bit more and drank the milk. Naru came in with his plate when I was almost finished with mine. Rather than getting up and taking it to the sink, I laid my head on the table and watched the bits of the sun that made it through the curtains reflecting off the table and onto the fork in Naru's hand.

The table was warm. I closed my eyes.

"How did Masako explain mental defense against possessions?"

I sighed and quoted, per word, "Stand up for yourself and refuse to give up the stage of your mind."

"Hmm. I can see how you could struggle with that."

"Yes, because you know my mind so well."

"I have read a lot of your writing."

"Reports are not my strong suit."

"Yes. Bevis and Butthead quotes are more like it."

Oh yeah. I included one of those in my last report, hadn't I? It had been ten at night, I was still traumatized from having shot a child rapist in the butt. Or more like seeing my two good friends bleeding out on a crappy living room floor.

"Ah, so you did watch cartoons as a child."

Click of the fork. "I was a child once."

"Pardon. I had assumed you were born fifty-four and grumpy."

We fell into a comfortable quiet filled with the clicking of his fork. I must have dozed off a bit somewhere in there, because the next thing I knew Naru was shaking my shoulder. The touch startled me and I sat up ramrod straight.

"I'm awake! I'm awake."

"Need help to the couch?" he asked.

"If I'm going to sleep more I should probably just head home. You do have 'propriety,' to worry about."

He rolled his eyes. "As long as you're worn out like this, you're still vulnerable to possession, especially since you're clairvoyance kicks in when you sleep. You can leave when you're not tired anymore."

"Well, okay, Mom." I yawned and got up. "Oh where oh where has my ice teacher gone."

He just grunted to that and vanished back into the kitchen, probably to get something from his room or retreat to his office.

Not soon after I had bundled back up on the couch, though, he came back out, swiping one of his flat fuzzy pillows to sit against the fireplace, which had gotten a bit brighter as the coals woke up. In his lap, he had a laptop and a folder of papers.

"You don't have to babysit me. I'm not going to steal your stuff." I mumbled.

"I thought friends enjoyed each other's company," he said, eyes to the screen, already tapping madly on the mouse.

"Naru said the 'f' word." I yawned again, jaw popping. "If anyone calls for me, tell them I'm dead."

Within a few minutes under the sound of keys tapping, I was out once more.

When I woke up, he hadn't moved, though there was a mug of what could have been coffee on the seat of the fireplace. I watched without his notice for some precious minutes before he sighed heavily and rubbed his forefinger and thumb over his eyes hard.

"Grading?"

"Yes," he said.

"Stupid people?"

"Worse. Stupid people who think I'm the next Indiana Jones, who, I may add, was an awful teacher."

"Well, you did get shot, like, last month," I eyed him. "How are you doing, by the way?"

"About the same the last time you asked. As long as I don't lift my left arm above my waist I'm fine. Anything to get that damn sling off."

"You're such a baby. I had my arms bandaged for months."

"And every time I see you in short sleeves I can't help but wish you still did."

I scowled at him. "These are my battle scars." And flexed one of my arms, even though he couldn't see anything due to my long sleeve t-shirts. Spring was coming, but it wasn't here yet. Snow still clustered in the shadows and edges.

"Whatever makes you happy," he said, obviously having fully engrossed himself into grading again before I had even finished speaking.

I wiggled on my spot on the couch again. I wasn't particularly hungry or sleepy anymore besides that leftover grogginess which is always there right after you wake up. I took the chance of him being glued to the floor to use his bathroom without fear of him hearing me pee. Because, yo, that's just no go, letting your crush hear you pee. Perish the thought of number two.

When I came back, he glanced up at me and closed his laptop.

"Do you have an appointment with Masako set up for next week?"

I slumped and whimpered. "Do I have to? She just made me weaker to spirits."

"It's a common thing in human nature that in order to become strong, one must first know what it feels to be weak," Naru said, cracking his head from side to side. "You need to make yourself vulnerable in order to recognize others, be they spirit or living. To see them for who they are. To see yourself."

I slumped onto the floor next to the couch, not hiding any of my poutings from him. "This all sounds like whimsical philosophy, like the kind of stuff you see in inspirational quotes on facebook or painted onto little tiles in old lady's houses."

"When dealing with the metaphysical, it does often sound like a metaphor. Comes with not having a stable object to lift and observe." He folded his arms and crossed a leg. "This is why being a medium will be so beneficial to your being a ghost hunter."

"Even so, Masako isn't helping. You seem to know a lot, why can't you just teach me?"

"Because I'm not a medium," he said bluntly. "I have never practiced these things myself."

"Sure." I wrinkled my nose. "I don't get why I need to have training now. I've lived most of my life without being possessed or whatever."

He sighed. "That's because every human being has a level of sensitivity to the spiritual, or rather, the spiritual side. We are all human, after all, dead or alive." He paused. "Perhaps a visit to John will do you some good. Most religions have a way of meditation or other practices to help raise awareness of one's self, which you clearly do lack."

"How do you know that? I'm cheese and butthead!"

Mouth twitch. A hard one. Score for me.

"Because, Mai," he said, his tone softening for some reason. "Others serve as our mirrors. It's like a fun house, and many of the mirrors are warped, but they are what we have, and you don't let yourself be seen. You hide behind humor or simple avoidance."

I gave an explosive sigh and ran my hands down my face, pulling my eyelids till they popped.

"Not this lecture again," I moaned. "Look, I'm doing the best I can—"

"I know you are," he said quickly, and some of that strange, uncanny softness reached his eyes. "But in order for one to have healthy, intimate relationships with other people, they need a foundation with some they are already it. Family, parents, they are the first people you have that connection with. Without that foundation…you're free falling. A kite with no string." He sighed. "It's not your fault, you know."

"It's always so exciting when you decide to deconstruct and analyze my psyche, Doctor Phil."

He rolled his eyes. "There you go doing it again."

"What? You expect me to be comfortable with you essentially telling me I'm broken and there's nothing I can do about it?"

"I didn't say that," he unfolded his arms and leaned forward on a knee. "Humankind is resilient. All you need to do is find a new foundation, experience intimacy, just to get a taste of what it feels like to open yourself up and look into the metaphorical mirror of someone else. Once you have a clear view of yourself, or at least clearer than it is now, defending yourself against spirits who wish to override your identity with their own will be much easier. Masako doesn't know about your parents. To her, you're just being stubborn."

I did not like the fact that he was defending her. "Gee, if you like her so much, why don't you just date her?"

He looked to the ceiling. "God, one track mind." Then he looked back down to me. "That's not a bad suggestion for you, though. You could always try dating Takigawa. Not the boy who wants to marry you, he is essentially jail bait."

Heat flooded my face. "You…you're saying getting into a romantic relationship…"

He shrugged. "They do provide the best environment for intimacy. And you learn a lot about yourself while trying to learn and take care of someone else."

I looked down at my clenched hands, which had begun to sweat. "I don't want to date him."

"He knows—"

"Yes, he knows. But he wants to," ugh, it felt weird to say it. " 'Try and win me over.'" I sighed. "I can't believe my professor is encouraging me to hook up with a guy."

"Hook up implies just sex. I meant a relationship, deeper, long term."

"Then why can't I just do that with you?"

It was out before I had thought better of it. It had come up with a roll of frustrated heat from my gut that turned my chest to fire and warmed my already red face. Sweat was collecting in more places than just my hands now.

He stared at me, mouth slightly apart. His blue eyes quivered on me.

"That would be a very bad idea," he eventually breathed.

"Because you'd get fired," I said, pulling my legs in for defense, naturally terrified of the Pandora's box I'd just opened. I had started shaking.

"No," he said. "Because…I am not a good choice of person to practice such things with. I am…cold, arrogant, thoughtless, and careless with other's emotions. I would end up hurting you more than helping you. No, it's best you forget about that entirely." He ducked his head. "Don't think of me again."

Painful, chilling ice rushed over my heat, resulting in pure emotional pain. All my insides constricted on themselves, as though to pull back from the sudden sting.

"But…" My throat was tightening. I didn't have much time. "Isn't it better to," I swallowed hard. "Do this sort of thing with someone you like? Like…really like?"

"Like somebody else, Mai."

Something inside me cracked. I stood up so fast I saw stars as the blood rushed to my feet.

"Guess I should get going then. Saturday is one of my only days to work on the science building." I said, as cheerfully as I could manage.

He said nothing, head still bowed, his hands clasped together over one knee.

"Thanks for all the help, Prof. I'll be doing my best."

"Be safe," I heard, soft, but clear.

I forced a snort, drawing on that humor he accused me of hiding behind, I guess. "Just because you said that I'm going to steal a car and go Fast and Furious on this town."

And not waiting for him to make a comeback to that, I grabbed my coat and left. It wasn't until I had walked a good six blocks from his house that I noticed I was still holding on to the edge of the too big sweats. I had left my jeans, and therefore my phone and wallet, at his house.

"I don't need to buy anything soon," I said. "I can get it back from him on Monday. He'll probably notice it right away since it's not kosher with his tiki mask."

Thick, hot tears, coursed down my cheeks and into the sheep wool collar of my jacket. They came fast, like a river, practically steaming in the chilly late morning air.

I didn't bother to wipe them away until I had made the long walk to my apartment. There, I snuck in as quietly as I could and managed to take a shower before Ayako caught me.

"Where were you last night?" she asked, sounding much like a mother goose despite her attempts to school her face into simple curiosity.

"Masako smashed my brain," I said simply and quietly, so as to not alert her to the rocky state of my throat or the searing, breath-stealing pain in my chest. "It made me extra vulnerable to spirits and destroyed my focus so I got lost and Professor Davis found me. He let me stay at his house because dear old Masako didn't bother giving me protection from the spirits who wanted a getaway car."

I sensed more than saw her stiffen. "Mai, are you okay?"

"Dandy." Five steps to my bedroom. Five steps to safety.

"The professor didn't do anything to you, did he?"

"Of course not. I slept on his couch and left."

"Yeah, but…you know I'm here if you need me, right?"

"Yeah!" I tried some enthusiasm in that, but my throat just cracked. I made a beeline to my room.

"Mai?"

I closed the door behind me just in time for a new wave of tears. I crumpled to the floor, not unlike I had the night before, and crawled to my bed where I curled up in my mom's Navajo blanket. But the comfort it once gave couldn't touch this. This…this pain…oh God, Father,…Daddy.

I couldn't breathe.


	5. Angels, Arby's, and Rebound Hunting

**I want sparkling grape juice...**

5

Saturday really was one of the only days I had to run my tests on the Science building. I had to gather up my measuring tools and camera and get to it, no matter how I felt. Besides, this…this shouldn't be bringing me down so much. People went through it every day.

God, people went through it every day. And lived. I was going to live through this. Ugh.

At Ayako's worried noise, I begged her to leave it be and left with my eyes sore, but dry. At least I had my own pants on again. I'd thrown Naru's sweats in the corner as though they'd turned into a deadly viper. Maybe once I had done as much as I could, I'd ask Ayako to introduce my virgin liver to some booze and see how well that worked, though I wasn't too fond of the getting sick part I always heard. Maybe she would know some tricks. Too bad I'd left my cell phone behind at Professor Heartbreaks, I could have just texted her.

I had already wasted most of the day when I reached the nigh-empty science building and made my way to the west side to measure angles of wall junctions. I also had a stud finder and a screwdriver to test for wet spots or weakened drywall, as well as a little black baggy of other useful tools, such as a leveler. Those stupid doors that the president claimed kept opening and closing on their own were probably off balance.

I measured the two floor. First the other three sides away from the sinking corner. Each was at least a partial degree off. When I got to the side with the weakened corner, the sky had grayed outside and a light drizzle sprinkled across the windows.

"86 degrees?" I said out loud, rather amazed. "Frick, the whole building's going leaning tower of Pisa."

I found that keeping myself engrossed in work helped tremendously. Though the ache was always there, at least I wasn't thinking about it.

Once I'd looked over the numbers I had recorded for the walls, I turned to the doors with my handy dandy leveler. I had to kidnap a chair from inside one of the classrooms, but I was right about the doors. Hardly level at all.

"Man, Mason, have you been slacking?" Mason was a coworker of my boss, Jeff. While Jeff was the supervisor for the maintaining of the heat plant and maintenance room, Mason was supervisor of the overall upkeep of things such as level doors and leaning walls. Even so, he managed to balance out some of Jeff's laid back-ness, such as that time he gave me a subpar mask for cleaning a maintenance room still insulated with asbestos. It was odd seeing my always nice and smiley boss being told off by usually equally jovial Mason. Jeff had looked like a wilting tulip.

This didn't seem like him. If I had my phone on me I could've called Jeff for Mason's number and gotten his take on all this. Maybe he had already written a report on it and the president had just overlooked it. That would save me tons of trouble.

Frick, I was missing my phone more and more. I could have been even listening to sappy break up music and everything.

With that in mind, I skipped down to the first floor, assuming the walls were at least straight or at similar angles.

I had just gotten my handy dandy chair and my angle measurer into the first wall junction when a hush of rain and breeze opened and closed behind me.

"Mai!"

I turned about to see none other than the brown fluffy head of Chance, lanky in his youth and smile wide.

I mirrored the smile instantly. "Hey, stalker boy."

"Whoa, you're the one who didn't answer your phone. The Arby's was getting cold, so I just texted Ayako."

"Getting cozy with my roommate?"

"Don't you know," he ambled over closer till I could see the raindrops caught in his hair and sprinkling the shoulders of his leather jacket. "First step getting close to a girl is getting to know her friends."

I laughed, more out of surprise than anything. "And once again, you're openness is astounding."

"Hard to get embarrassed after—"

"Yeah yeah, don't you dare make me remember. You said you had Arby's?"

He nodded, face screwed in mock pride. "I've got the meats!"

And since I had been too, well, depressed and broken hearted to notice my empty stomach, I jumped down and happily joined him at one of the old fashioned no-nonsense couches that filled the welcome hall of the old science building. Taxidermies animals lined the walls, along with tanks in alcoves with living animals. Seemed I could only appreciate this when I had a mouth full of roast beef.

"At my grandpa's college, there's this huge brass pendulum in their science hall," said Chance. "I'd sneak away and screw with it and get random professors screaming at me that it was following the spin of the earth and I'd just ruined years of accurate swinging."

I chuckled. "Your grandfather is a professor?"

"Yeah, retired now, but when I was little he was the professor of music, voice, and woodwinds."

My eyebrows went high at that. "A musician."

Chance nodded enthusiastically through his mouthful of Arby's. Once he had swallowed he added, "He kind of started a trend in my family. Everyone can play an instrument and is at least basically trained in voice. I was in the choir when I was an altar boy."

"A high, beautiful soprano, of course," I said, smiling.

"Tenor, thank you very much," he said with much done up dignity, which he topped off with a ginormous bite of meaty sandwich.

"So, what instrument do you play?"

"Violin. A very manly violin."

"Wouldn't that be a viola?"

I found talking to him eased the pain in my chest, even by a little bit. My eyes watered a bit in relief at so little a rescue. If I had felt no endearment towards Chance before, I certainly did now.

Once we had finished eating, he patted his stomach, then considered me with an expression I remembered from the hospital.

"Your roommate said you weren't doing well," he said. "What's up?"

I hadn't expected that. But, in this safe place of friendly smiles and full of Arby's, I felt safe that my throat wouldn't completely give up on me.

"I got rejected," I said, nibbling on a crumb of curly fries.

"The professor guy?" Good job, kid. I didn't hear a bleep of hope in that statement.

"Yeah."

"You know he's an idiot, right?"

"You can't call someone an idiot for not returning a girl's feelings."

"I can if they're yours," he said, with a seriousness that was unnatural on a fourteen year old boy's face.

My neck grew hot. I put up a hand between us.

"No moves till you're legal."

He rolled his bright eyes. "You make it sound like I'm going to jump you. I'm trying to cheer you up."

I sighed. "There really isn't much that will work on a broken heart besides time."

He echoed my sigh. "Guess you'd know that better than me."

I snorted. "I totally pulled that out of my butt. I've never been in love before this, so you probably know just as much as me."

"No way, that sounded totally legit."

"Yes way."

We chatted for a bit longer. The rain outside increased till it became a dancing patter upon the roof and windows.

Eventually, Chanced checked his phone. "I better get going. Mom stuck a dinner time curfew on me." A long dramatic sigh. "So unmanly."

"You are fourteen."

"Not for long. Just watch. And you probably have to get back to your project. Sorry for creeping on you with Arby's."

"Hey, if you got the meats, you can creep on me whenever you want."

He laughed at that, crunching the empty Arby's bag into the pocket of his coat.

"I love you, Mai. I'll see you later."

He didn't stand around expecting a reply after that. Just got up and went, swaggering as only a lanky, disproportionate 14 year old could.

I stared after him long after he disappeared, feeling the pain seep back to a boil in my chest. A part of me wished he would stay, even if he had ulterior motives. It wasn't love, but is this what they call rebound?

With a deliberate pace, I threw myself back into my work. Soon I had the dimensions of the first floor, and with some trig I could find the dimensions of the other floors too.

Lastly, was the basement, where the maintenance room was.

Now I was in my element. There were few classrooms down here. There had been flooding in the pass, as proof by the yellow marked walls near the maintenance room. Using a copy of the key Jeff had given to me, I slid in and turned on the light.

I hadn't made it here yet to clean. Me and the other underlings of Jeff had stages to each room we went too. First and foremost was always the care of the heat plant. Once it had been cleaned top to bottom and its paint touched up (every pipe had its assigned color depending on what purpose it served, whether cold water, hot water, air, etc), only then would we move out to the other maintenance rooms which were connected to the heat plan via long, little tunnels. We weren't allowed in the tunnels quite yet, mostly because the tunnels needed less attention. But each maintenance room would undergo the same thing—deep cleaning and then a refreshing repaint.

This old science building, however, was on the opposite side of campus. We were still working in the humanities building's room. Thus, I walked into dust, cobwebs, and dirt familiar to an unseen to the maintenance room. Even so, I could pick out the hot water pipes, the cold water pipes, the engine pumps, air ducts, etc. The light had been changed recently, which was a relief. These rooms could be understandably dark and shadowy.

The thing I inevitably noticed first was the huge air duct that took up the majority of the west side of the room. It was tall and wide enough for a man to move around comfortably, and there was a door with a little window to look inside. All I saw was darkness, and I couldn't help but wonder what this thing did. While the walls were built like air ducts, I had never beheld one quite this large, and underground, nonetheless. Usually, they hugged the ceiling.

I popped out a flashlight from my little tool bag, but all I saw inside were layers of dust bunnies and insulation.

Ugh. That was going to be a pain to clean.

Using my flashlight, I found the corners of the walls, floors, and ceilings to take my measurements. Signs of flooding were more obvious here in signs of still damp cement floor and the smell of mildew. I found black dots lining the wall and plastic cover of pipe insulation in the west most corner, the lowest point in the building. I made sure to take pictures of them as well as the pronounced crack in the floor. I got down with my leveler to record just how uneven the broken floor was and took a picture of that too.

The industrial door handle clicked behind me. Assuming for all the world that it was Jeff checking in on me, or even Mason looking to fix something, I was thrown off guard when I saw Takigawa. The too-white lights paled him considerably, and that white face did not look happy. If anything, it looked distraught.

I hurriedly crawled myself out of the west corner, worry wearing against the heartache already there.

"Takigawa, are you okay? You're not supposed—"

"I'm not okay," he said, and his voice was ragged.

Ignoring the dust and grime that speckled me, I trotted to his side. My friend—

"You're head? Bad test marks?" Without thinking I reached up to feel the bandage on the back of his head. I had to stand on my tippee toes just to even brush it. "Do I need to beat up somebody?"

He made a weak smile at that. "I'm a big boy, I can fight my own battles."

"Says the guy who I had to shoot someone in the butt for."

The smile wavered and his eyes brightened. Usually so happy-go-lucky and funny, it was unnerving to see Takigawa distressed like this.

He reached up to take the hand that attempted to feel the state of the back of his head.

"Mai," he breathed, and once more there was that ragged edge. "Did you really promise to marry that little kid?"

Chill ran across my skin. "Chance?"

"In the likelihood you couldn't get the professor," he was staring right at me now, right into my eyes. "Did you promise him that?"

For some reason, I remembered the professor telling me not to tell Takigawa about this. My stomach clenched up painfully at the thought that I had brought that distress to the music major's face.

"I didn't think he meant it," I said. "I had just saved his life, and he—"

"So you said yes?" The grip on my wrist tightened a bit, although not painfully.

I lowered down to my heels. "Like I said, I thought he was just, I don't know, hero-glamorizing me? And he seemed like such an earnest kid. And he's just fourteen, he's bound to find someone better."

"Better than the woman who rescued him from molestation and certain death?" he said lowly, and he wasn't looking at me now, but to the side. "A woman who, I might add, is attractive, friendly, funny, charismatic, and smart?"

"Well, love is deaf and blind, not a comparison contest—"

"Then how come you gave into him so easily and won't give me even a chance?"

Now his grip had gotten painful.

"Dude, ow, lay off."

He loosened his hand, but he didn't let go of me. He was looking into my eyes now with a look I only remembered happening once before, back in the back hall of a chapel.

"If you're going to agree to fucking marriage to a kid," he half said, half whispered, "Can't you at least consider what I have to offer first? I was your friend before him, I was here first."

His words had started to make me panic. "Takigawa, it isn't like that! Please, don't sound so hurt, it didn't have anything to do with you. We're cool, I'm not shunning you."

"But you keep your promises."

He had lowered my hand to dangle between us. His other hand, shaking and white in the naked bulbs of the maintenance room, gently landed on my other cheek.

"The professor hurt you," he said, even more quietly, as though afraid I might bolt. "Why didn't you come to me?"

"I haven't even talked to Ayako about it, and it's not really your business," I said, flushed and beginning to shake all over.

"It is my business. I care about you, Mai. That includes when you're hurt." A faint, but still weak smile quirked his mouth. "I need a turn to shoot someone's butt for you too, you know."

I rolled my eyes. "Like you would shoot the professor."

"True, I'm not going to go that far." He stepped forward, nearly eating the distance between us whole. That look was bleeding out from his gaze now, leaking into the rest of his features, intense, searing, and focused. "Especially since I should thank him, now that you can move on."

I could feel his body heat. The hand on my cheek had passed over my ear and run into my hair.

"You're eyes are still red," he whispered.

I looked away. I had too. The intensity was making me uncomfortable. "So I cried, girls cry, did you know?"

His fingers found the clip holding my hair up and undid it. Slightly damp, cold tresses fell against my neck. His warm fingers replaced the cold.

"I can make you forget," he said. "Please, let me make you forget. Let me show you what I have to offer, what…what I feel for you."

He had drawn me closer till my breasts had pressed up against his chest. The hand in my hair cupped the back of my head towards him.

When had I become so cold?

My eyes to the hollow of his throat, I said, "I don't want to hurt you. What if it hurts you?"

"You're too honest for that," he said. "You know what that priest told me? He asked me what happened to your arms because it was obvious your mouth was not use to lying. He didn't believe the skateboard story."

I could smell him now, like baked bread, some sort of male bodywash, sweat, and rain. His breath puffed over my face.

"I'm a big boy, Mai," he said, even as he drew near to close the distance between our mouths. "I can take care of myself."

Then he was kissing me, just as hard as he had the first time. His bruising mouth nearly ate mine whole, forcing it open. His front teeth pinched my lip before I felt his tongue brush in, flicking over chapped lips, teeth, and my own cowering tongue as though tasting fine honey.

I couldn't breathe, though he just breathed through his nose, stealing the breath from me. He had let go of my hand to press me to him, and his other hand had tightened around my hair, pulling it.

When he finally backed away, I gasped for air. He took that opportunity to press me up against that large, curious air duct, raising me to more his level and holding me up with a knee between my legs and his chest to mine.

"Wait—what was—you got to let me breathe—" I gasped.

"Sorry," was all I got before his mouth was back, forceful and hard once more. I thought I could taste blood.

I tried to breathe through my own nose and heard him moan as I took his warm breath. A hot hand found the edge of my shirt and ran up to the rim of my breasts, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His hands were rough, big, and scratchy.

When his fingers wiggled beneath my bra, I cried out and slammed the hand not pinned by him to his shoulder. But my protest came out muffled, and probably mistaking it for a noise of pleasure, the rest of his hand followed, squeezing my breast just as hard as he pressed against me. I cringed.

Warmth pooled in my lower gut just as tears prickled the corners of my eyes. It hurt.

_I don't like this…_

He wouldn't break the kiss anymore. I had to subsist on what I could sip through my nose and his breath, as he did the same to me, stealing my breaths almost as soon as I had them. My head grew light, and his other arm moved from around me to the waistband of my jeans. The metal of the air duct stung cold against my back where my shirt had rode up. His other hand left the crushing of my breast to wrap about my upper back, holding me as the fingers rode round to the front and unbuckled my jeans.

I wriggled and cried out again, fighting to find some kind of hold, but my light head made it come out weak and fluttering. The heat between my legs confused me and tantalized me, even as the pain of his kiss and touch made the tears pour faster.

Then his fingers touched a part no one was allowed to. Just as I tried a kick, my toes only just brushing the floor, those fingers dove in, deeper than I thought anything could go down there. I had never even used tampons.

And it hurt. His fingers were rough with calluses and his nails scraped the sensitive sides.

With all my breath I sucked in air, stealing, taking it all, and screamed.

Once more it came out muffled, and he still somehow mistook it for pleasure, as he started moving his fingers in time with his tongue, in and out, both nails and tongue and teeth scraping.

And, suddenly, Takigawa's face was away and I could breathe again. I just caught sight of someone in black yanking Takigawa back before I collapsed onto the floor, fighting past a sob for air. My heart fluttered and skipped, frightened, and shortening the breath I so dearly needed to clear my vision.

"What the hell—" started Takigawa.

But a lower, angrier voice blew over his. "_What the hell do _you_ think you're doing?!"_

I had to look up to see who yelled, as I had never heard Professor Davis bellow so. He had his right hand in Takigawa's blond hair, bending him back, his left arm—the good one—holding Takigawa's wrist behind him at a painful, awkward angle.

"None of your damn business!" Takigawa barked.

"Don't you even see what you're doing to her?" growled Naru, yanking Takigawa's face to me even as I weakly tried to pull up my pants and put my bra back over my breasts, all while gasping for breath past my sobs. But he didn't give Takigawa long to look at me before he threw the taller man back with a ground-shaking roar. "YOU VIOLATED HER!"

Takigawa caught himself on the door. "I-I didn't mean—"

"Get the hell out of here before I _break your arms!"_

Takigawa looked behind him just to see Naru already taking a threatening step towards him. Wide, dismayed eyes met mine before he all but ran out of the door.

Leaving me in a very compromising position with the angriest man I had ever seen in my life.

My bra strap kept slipping from my trembling fingers. I had yet to button up my pants. I looked down to see more dirt than ever smeared all over me, but it was nothing compared to how dirty I felt inside. A small drop of blood dripped from my cracked lips onto my jeans. I hadn't exactly had moist lips when Takigawa had started with me in the first place.

I coughed, as both sob and gasp tried to come at the same time.

Beyond humiliated, I covered my mouth, fighting to regain some semblance of control. Nothing had happened. Nothing had happened. Takigawa was my friend, one of my best friends.

"Mai," I could hardly hear his voice after such a booming roar.

I hiccuped and coughed again, once more getting light headed.

He pulled my hand away from my face. "Breathe. It's alright, just breathe."

"I'm fine," I tried to say, now fighting tears at having Naru so close. My heart was bleeding. Did it have to be him?

"Of course not. Where are your tools? You're done for today."

I coughed again, this time it came down from the deep and took hold of me, disabling me from responding. Once the fit had finished, I clenched my eyes shut and focused on remembering how to use a diaphragm. In, out, in, out—I could be weepy on the outs. The intakes shook, but I managed to breathe deep enough to return my head to my shoulders.

Naru came back to a kneel in front of me, though I hadn't even noticed him leaving.

"I got your tools. Mai, look at me."

I had only viewed his knees from beneath my wet lashes. I looked up at his outstretched hand before reaching his face.

Something hot and dangerous still burned in his glacier blue eyes, but his mouth was thin, his eyebrows puckered up in painful concern.

"You're okay," he said.

That only made me sob my hardest yet.


	6. How the crap was I suppose to know?

**So, spent the morning in complete discouragement and hopelessness. So I prayed and cried until I fell asleep in the sun coming through my window and now I'm doing better. I'm going to eat some watermelon and ice cream and hang out with my boys, who are both relieved to see I'm doing better. They hadn't eaten either, and it struck me that when I don't eat, they don't really feel up to eating either. How strange. **

**...But I think I'm going to be okay.**

6

Naru had come to the maintenance room to give me back my pants, wallet, and phone. He had figured I'd be there after passing by my apartment and seeing I wasn't there. He alone didn't get the whole story chain from Ayako, which apparently Chance and Takigawa had. Who knew so much drama could erupt from losing your phone for a day?

Once he had gotten me to his feet, I wasn't too keen on following him. How many embarrassing things had I experienced in front of him now? Forget rejection.

But I found myself curled up in the back seat of his car, probably because I still remembered the peace I had felt waking up from his couch, or even, back at the mansion when we had been babysitting one another. He had broken my heart, but I had no one else to go to. Even Ayako wasn't close enough or me to feel comfortable going home, especially covered in dirt, ruffled, and my girl parts burning from being scraped at.

Naru had opened the passenger side door, but the back seat was where I curled, so it was on the side closest to my head that he opened the door and squatted down to speak to me, even though the rain continued on outside.

"You said you didn't want to go home. Is there anywhere else you want to go?"

I shook my head before flinging my arms over it. If I could just die, that would be nice.

Why had I let myself get so close to Naru?

"It hurt," I croaked. "I hurt."

"I know. Your lip is bleeding."

"No," but I couldn't tell him my left boob ached like mashed ground beef and my girls parts stung so much, I didn't know what to do with them.

"You hurt in other places?"

I nodded, though I'm sure it wasn't very clear with my arms held over my head. "He's my best friend. He-he didn't mean—it _hurt._"

"Shh. I know."

"Is that what it feels like? I didn't ask—he just wanted to show—show his feelings—do those feelings always hurt so much? I could hardly breathe, I—" I broke off in a hiccup, the kind the plague you after a hard, long cry. "I didn't know—I tried—I tried to—"

"I know. He was getting the wrong message. That much was obvious."

"It's raining. You should—you should get out of the rain—"

"Don't worry about me. Where do you want to go? Or do you just want to stay in my car like this."

I hiccupped again. "I-I think I want a shower. I feel dirty." Inside and out.

"But not home?"

I nodded again, whimpering and hating myself for being so afraid of Ayako just then. I was afraid she'd judge me, that she'd snap one of those quippy jokes at me, or worse, be aloof as she always was and just give me a slap on the back. She had been comfortable to live with because of that aloofness, but now it was coming back to bite me.

I felt his fingers pass over the top of my head, like a hesitant butterfly, unable to land, then the door closed and he was sitting down into the driver's seat. My weight shifted with the start and turn of the car. Its mumbling engine mixed with the sound of rain on its metal roof. Cars passing by sounded like waves in the ocean.

Why did it have to be him? Why couldn't I…be stronger?

Before I knew it, he had pulled up somewhere and turned off the car. I was still curled in fetal position on his back seat, but at least my tears had slowed somewhat.

A rush of cold, late evening air washed over me as he opened the door on the side of my head.

"Mai, can you come out?"

I certainly didn't feel like it. If I could just rot and die in this backseat, it would be fine with me. It smelled of Naru enough here that I could pretend.

But when I felt his hands on my arms, maybe getter ready to haul me out, I flinched to attention and quickly crawled out. Outside was that large, yard conquering tree and his small little house.

"I know you probably don't want to be back here so soon," he said quickly, which was so unlike my confident professor. "But if you don't want to go home for your shower, you're welcome to use mine."

I looked at his house for a second before turning my watering, sore eyes to him. I could feel the last of my defenses crumble.

"But you don't like me," I said.

"No," he said, once more kneeling to be level with me. "No, that's not it at all. Don't you remember what I said?"

"Mai, like someone else?"

"I said you were one of the few people who could make me laugh and were cute. What's not to like?"

My face screwed up on its own, and I hid it behind my hands.

"Like is different from love," I mumbled, knowing fresh tears were rolling down my face. "Love hurts. Oh god, it hurts. I don't want to do this anymore, Naru. I don't want to try and be close to anyone, I don't want to do this stupid medium thing, I don't want to feel. I can't—I can't—"

"Shh, Mai," I felt his hands on my wrists, and it made me remember the harsh strength of Takigawa's.

I stiffened. "No more, I don't—don't hurt me. It hurts, it hurts—"

"Mai," and he said it with so much softness, I caught my breath. "Let me see your face."

I let him carefully, gently, pull aside my hands. He leaned up to me, drowning me in glacier blue and the smell of leather.

His lips touched mine, so soft and pliant, it was almost not a kiss at all. He let go of my wrists to gently touch my face as he pulled back and wiped the tears from my eyes with his fingers, which, unlike Takigawa's, were cool, soft, smooth, and even wiped the snot from my nose. He then leaned in to give me another gentle kiss that sent shivers up my spine.

"That's all I was trying to do," he murmured, only an inch from my face. Rain splashed off him and onto me, cold as ice. "All I wanted was for you to not get hurt. I didn't…someone as broken as me…"

Sniffing, shivering now from the rain and wind, I leaned my forehead against his.

"Aren't I broken too?" I asked.

"And what is the likelihood of two broken people fixing each other?"

"Likelihood is still a possibility." I slid past his face, soft and as wet as my own, to nuzzle my face into the crook of his shoulder. I twisted up my hands into his shirt and held tight.

He ran his cool hands across the back of mine. "Come on. Let's get you out of the cold and into that shower. Everything is going to be okay."

I nodded, lifting my head just to keep my eyes downcast. I didn't want him to see the horrid puffy redness which was me, especially after he did something as undignifying as wiping my nose.

He kept a hand around my wrist, still ever so gently, as he helped me out from the back of his car and shut the door. Rain pummeled us, and by the time we reached the shelter of his porch I was soaked. Cotton and sheepskin make a warm jacket, but waterproof they are not.

I looked up at the light as he figured out his keys.

"You still have your green spider."

"Starting to think I should give him a name."

"Nah. It's just a spider."

The door opened and he gently led me in. I expected him to let go to turn on the lights, or at least to leave me to find my way on my own. But once he closed the door, he led me through the semi-darkness, past the little living room and dining room, through the kitchen, and to the bathroom door. When he finally turned on a light, my eyes stung from the contact.

"Here. Take as long as you need to."

But even as he stepped aside, my other hand didn't let go where it had twisted around his shirt. Trembling, raw, and vulnerable, I drew near to him, nuzzling my face into his shoulder. I didn't want to leave. Not while he was being so tolerant and gentle to me. What if he came back the usual cold, smart-ass professor who didn't like me?

I felt his hand brush down my hair.

"Okay," he said. "I get it. Just take your pants off. I'll be right there."

That made me freak out a little.

"What—why—"

"You don't want to be alone," he said, as though it were the easiest fact in the book.

"But—but it hurt—"

"I'm not going to do anything to you. Just be with you. Keep the rest of your clothes on if you like, just take off your jeans. I'll be right back, okay?"

Only after a few more soothing strokes under his hand did I let go and step back. He closed the door behind him and I looked at my pale, trembling, bruised mouth self in the mirror, red puffy eyes and all.

"I'm covered in snot," I found, looking down at my shirt. Still shivering so bad I could hardly stay on my feet let alone stand on one foot to get my jeans off, I sat on the toilet and managed to wriggle the wet things off. Then I considered my dark purple shirt. I'd need my bra, and it couldn't be dried in the dryer. It would be a pain to get wet.

I had just managed to get said bra off and tucked away with my jeans when a soft knock came to the door.

"Come in," I said, all shivering awkwardness.

Naru opened the door and slipped in, wearing nothing but a pair of dark blue swim trunks. But my attention went to his shoulder, where an ugly mass of stitches and yellow-purple bruised skin stuck out. It looked swollen and sore as well, with traces of blood clinging about the edges of the wound.

I reached out a bit pathetically. "Are you…are you okay? Your shoulder—"

"I'm okay, Mai. I just used it a little too much tonight."

He barely glanced at me before going to the side of his old fashioned claw foot tub and turning on the water. I watched with mild fascination as his bare shoulder blades worked. I had been wrong about his skin being white. Against the porcelain, it was almost a light yellow, like ivory, and there were a small smattering of freckles across his shoulders.

When the temperature satisfied him, he pulled hard on a handle next to the faucet and the water stopped and the shower turned on. He got in, then turned around, hands held out, which I took gratefully. There was no telling how slippery the tub's floor would be. He then turned me about into the warm spray and gestured me to sit down. From there, I could see my pale legs, purple with cold, compared to his own ivory rimmed with black hair. I pinched my knees together, glad my shirt at least covered my hips.

An involuntary sigh of relief escaped my lips. The hot water was just right—and just what I needed. I turned my face up into the spray, feeling the rain and the sensation of rough hands slid off and down the drain.

There was a click of a lid and I heard Naru moving. I opened my eyes to find him squatting down in the spray in front of me, the water running off his long lashes in big, crystal drops.

"Let me see your head," he said.

I leaned through the water to him and was rewarded with his hands in my hair, lathering in what smelled like some sharp, clean shampoo, that reminded me of water on the driveway in the middle of summer and the first-morning dew.

He washed my hair almost ridiculously gentle, like one would imagine a parent washing the head of a child terrified of getting soap in their eyes. He slowly worked his fingers from the back to the front, then gently washed it all out again, avoiding every snag and all the while keeping suds from my face. I couldn't help the small little noises his fingers elicited and drew near to him.

When he finally drew away, I looked up at him through my own curtain of eyelash waterfall and reached for his face. He moved to his knees to better lean down, giving me access to his mouth.

I gave him a kiss as soft as the one he gave me, my lips still sore and bruised. When I pulled away, I received a shock when I felt his tongue on my lips. But he didn't invade my mouth. All he did was find the crack in my lips, which he closed his mouth on and gently lapped at, washing away any leftover blood.

A hot, pleasant heat I had never felt before rushed through me.

Too soon, he pulled apart, his hands finding my arms.

"Not too much," he murmured. "Not in here."

I didn't have the mind to pry further into this. I just figured he was referring to the fact that we were both half-naked and alone in a warm shower.

After that he sat down with me, only to grab a sponge and white bar of soap. After rubbing them together to get a good lather, he took the sponge to my skin so softly it might have not cleaned away anything at all. But he grew braver when my hands didn't leave his ankles and dared to scrub a bit harder around my neck, never once going below the neckline of my shirt.

As he did so, I looked at the bullet wound in his shoulder. The skin looked to have mended together, somewhat, but it still had that inflamed look that my arms had had even a month of being sewn up. I tiny trail of pink ran from the ugly knot.

"You're bleeding…"

"Barely," he said.

"That's because…Takigawa…I'm so sorry."

He paused on his way down my arm. "Sorry?"

"If I hadn't gotten him off sooner—"

"He had you pinned to the wall, your feet weren't even touching the floor," he said sharply, a remnant of his earlier anger edging his voice.

I quieted at that, too raw to get into any kind argument.

He worked his way down my legs, then to my feet, where he took careful time with all my toes and the creases of my ankle. The purple had left my legs, leaving them looking almost gray against the white of the tub.

"Can I see the shampoo?" I asked.

Without looking up, he reached past the curtain to probably the toilet top and brought back an off brand bottle. I took it, filled the small circle of my palm with shampoo, and reached for his head. The moment he figured out my intentions, he bowed forward and relinquished my feet. I wasn't nearly as gentle as him, but I was still careful as I scratched my fingers with the shampoo through his thick black hair.

I heard the quietest of moans from him. He leaned further into my touch.

When I tugged him to get him more under the shower spray, he crawled past my legs, putting one knee between mine to brush his face against mine. I didn't make out his expression through the curtain of soapy hair, but when he pulled back so I could better scrub out the bubbles, his eyes had gone tender and soft. His face lax. The pupils of his eyes dilated, making them darker, and yet somehow warmer.

Then he gifted me with one of his rare, true smiles, which reached his eyes and transformed his face into something divine.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asked.

I tangled my fingers into his hair and brought his forehead to mine again.

"I love you," I said. "I freaking love you."

He was quiet for a moment, which made my heart quiver only for a breath.

"Are you sure it's me?" he asked, a bit breathless.

"Who else could it be?"

"Gene…"

I shook my head and pulled back to give him a playful grin. "Nah. I like your smart-ass walk and talk and your grouchy ice glares, or when you're frustrated and start rubbing the back of your head. Or when you find an especially clever way to insult a stupidly constructed sentence."

He blinked hard, sending the drops on his lashes into rivulets down his face.

"Are you a masochist?"

I laughed, the sound bouncing off the tiled walls and tub.

"I wondered the same thing," I said.

And then he was kissing me again, still soft, but firmer, a bit tilted to the side so our mouths aligned better. He didn't try to force my jaw apart, nor did I feel his teeth pressing through flesh or clipping my lips. Just softness and a warmth that breathed down to the last bit of cold the hot water hadn't reached.

He only lingered for a few seconds.

"I adore you," he breathed. "But I'm sorry, I'm not that kind of sadist."

"You're supposed to say 'love' not adore. Stop trying to be original."

"'Love is used too often," and he kissed me again. There was a bit more heat to this kiss somehow, and the wave of strange, pleasant fire waved through me once more.

Then he was pulling back, retreating from my reach, his eyes wide and on mine. He considered me for a few moments before he said, in a cracking voice.

"I can't hurt you. I…couldn't live with myself…"

"Dude, you call me all sorts of synonyms of stupid in class."

"Not like that," he looked down at his wrinkling fingers. "Like Takigawa hurt you. Like I already did hurt you this morning. Mai…Mai…"

His voice had broken down to nothing, and he couldn't look at me anymore, but hid his expression behind a curtain of black hair.

When the silence dragged on between us, I went for the sponge to clean him too, but he stopped me with a raised hand.

"I'm clean enough," he said, and quietly pushed himself to his feet. "I'll find you something to wear. You take as long as you need."

With a rustle of shower curtain rings, he was gone. Once I heard the door close behind him, I sighed heavily and tilted my face back up towards the water, which was still going hot.

_I am in love with his water heater too,_ I found myself thinking as I remembered the daily warm water tug of war Ayako and I had with our shower.

Carefully, I felt out the parts my shirt had covered, and which Naru hadn't dared to touch. My left breast still hurt, but the tenderness had eased somewhat from the heat. Still, I could make out the dark red splotches that would be bruises in the morning. I carefully peeled off my panties as well and cleaned down there, though I didn't get very far. The scratches still stung. I never knew that part of me went so deep inside. It was like my very organs had been scraped.

But then I thought of Naru's almost silly careful ministrations to my hair and face and body and smiled. It would be okay. I was safe. His house had protections, right?

I chuckled beneath my breath. "That still sounds dirty."

Then I turned off the water, squeezed as much as I could out of my shirt, and stepped out to find a thick blue towel waiting for me on top of the toilet seat. Abandoning my soaked shirt, I wrapped myself in it, then took the time to outline the scars on my arms, a ritual I always did during or after my showers. The pink lines would turn silver in time, I was told. Then, they would only be tiger stripes from a past healed over.


	7. A Twin in Moonlight

**Author's Note: I was requested by some sad, quarantined readers to finish this story. ^.^ I cannot refuse sad readers. I shall be updating as soon as I create a chapter, which only depends on when I get to sit down to write. I write about 2,000 words per sitting, so it can range from every day to multiple times a week. **

**Everything is going to be okay, sweetlings. Just do your best. It will be enough. **

7

I fell asleep much like I had the night before: warm in fuzz and listening to the crack of fire. Naru made himself a bed in front of the fire from a comforter and pillow, keeping the coffee table between us. We had eaten more canned soup and those store-bought biscuits in a can (the sudden popping of those still terrify me). We talked of lighter things, like school and how my exam of the science building was going. Overwhelming fatigue rolled over me. I thought I could hear Naru say something, but when I woke up sometime around two in the morning to go pee, I couldn't remember a thing, though I did find myself bundled up in his full-size bed. I had no memory of being carried either.

I felt my way to the bathroom, did my business, then stepped out to find Naru asleep on the couch. Only then did I notice the full moon shining through the kitchen window.

I don't know if everyone gets this way, but when I see a full moon I get a tickle in the back of my mind, as though something should be happening tonight, or perhaps I should do something. It was nearly bright as daylight.

I turned around and came face to face…with Gene.

I knew it was him because he wasn't wearing silky dark blue pajamas, but dressed in Naru's usual blackety black. The way he looked at me was also different from Naru—less natural glare from underneath his eyebrows.

I froze. "Please tell me this isn't a dream and that I didn't just pee the couch."

That full blown smile cracked Gene's face, blowing away any doubt I had left as to whether this twin was Naru. Naru could never replicate that bright, eye squinting smile, nor the laugh that followed after that didn't bounce around the kitchen like my voice had. The air swallowed it whole.

"No," he said. "You're just lucky. You're mental defenses have been beaten down so far, you're spiritual eyes can open."

I frowned. "But Naru's house is protected against spirits."

"Not all spirits," the wide grin turned cocky. "I've got personal dibs on my twin and you. My own personal haunting." His expression fell, and he looked to the side, suddenly disarmed by something. "But I still shouldn't be this clear. This kitchen shouldn't look so clear to me. Nor the moon." He looked back at me. "The spiritual realm—"

"—is built off perspective and intention," I finished for him. Then I shrugged. "Beats me. I just started being a Junior. All the juicy stuff is in the black magic class."

"I am _not_ black magic."

"Oh, but you are black," I wriggled my fingers at him.

He looked down at himself. "What are you talking about? I'm wearing blue. Blue shirt, jeans…"

"Ah, it must be how I perceive you. Nevermind."

Palms sweaty (this still wasn't an everyday thing you could get use to,) I leaned against the stove.

"What can I do for you, Gene?"

He was still looking down at himself, as though all he had to do was squint hard enough to see what I did.

"Nothing. Just…thanks. For putting up with him."

I raised an eyebrow. "So far it's more like him putting up with me. I've been all ragged- Anne-doll sobby."

Another smile. "That makes no sense."

"So does. But, what, were you worried that he'd be alone forever? Is, that, like the thing holding you back?"

He shook his head. "The spiritual plain is much closer than you think. There are spirits everywhere, watching, whispering, trying to help or trying to harm. The defenses you're learning against possession is something all religions practice to some point in order to avoid temptation, sin, or otherwise unwanted influence from, well…" he spread his arms out.

"You sound like Naru."

"Dude, you don't say that to identical twins. Rude."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, okay. So, spiritual defenses are just ways to avoid temptation and influence that's always been around, it's nothing new, yes yes…you didn't answer my question."

He cocked his head to the side, a curious look that was also entirely Gene.

"Yes I did. The spiritual plain is the spirit world. Where spirits go when they die? It's here. It's on Earth. Moving on? That's just going out of view, but that's just a, um…state of perception?"

"Ugh, I hear that so much in class. State of perception."

"It's like seeing different levels of light—"

"Don't. Just don't. I take physics for a reason." But I did pause. "You're…you're always going to be here?"

He gave me a small smile full of bright hope and happiness.

"The spirits of the dead never really leave," he said, taking a step closer—but that one spiritual step covered the entire space between us, and I found us nearly nose to nose. I would have felt his breath, if he had had any to give. "It's just a change of state. One where you can't see or hear us or feel us all the time. But we can still see and hear you." The back of his fingers brushed across my cheek, and I felt them, soft, gentle, and yet nothing but intention. His smile was heartbreaking. "I love my family. Why would I leave them?"

I reached up to touch his hand, and my fingers touched my own cheek.

"Then…why are you looking at me like that? I'm not..."

A crack of floorboards caught my attention. My eyes only twitched and Gene vanished, as though I had been staring at the kitchen sink behind him the whole time.

Leaning against the archway into the living room stood my professor, his flat expression lit with silver moonlight. With Gene's face still bright in my mind, I couldn't believe I had ever mistaken him for his brother.

"Having a nice visit?" he asked, rather dryly.

I dropped my tingling hand. "Sir, I think you have a personal haunting."

"I do? You're the one seeing him."

I could just catch an edge of bitterness in his tone, small enough to miss. But, then, I had sort of expected it.

"Why do you hate that I can talk to your dead brother? You aren't, like, jealous of me, are you?"

"No," he said, looking out the dining room window. "If I want to see him I just look in the mirror."

"….Theeeeen….?"

"I'm not sure where you're getting this from. So you talk to my brother in the kitchen and wake me up in the middle of the night. Now that it's over and I can sleep, the irritation stops there."

He turned back into the living room. I thought that was it, but then I heard the clink of the fire poker and the brief flare up of amber light. I rubbed my itchy eyes and made my way to the living room, where Naru had crouched in front of the fireplace to breathe back the tongues of flame on glowing red coals.

"But," I started, wondering if I should say anything at all. "You asked me if I was sure I loved you and not Gene. Why else would you ask that?"

He let out a heavy sigh, same old exasperation. Guess kissing your student didn't make them any less aggravating.

"I thought you knew," he said, still looking at the fire. "Gene's the friendly one everyone likes. I'm, like, the shadow twin they tried to lure out into the sun to see if I would melt."

"Wow. Inferiority complex much?"

He snorted. "Hardly. I just matured faster than them and had better things to do, like getting my PhD."

I had to grin at that, even as it broke into a yawn.

"Well, I like you, not him, so stop worrying."

He tched between his teeth. "I wasn't worrying."

"You were so worrying."

"You woke me up talking to dead people."

"You study dead people."

"Stop. You aren't winning, so stop." He tossed another log onto the revitalized fire and leaned back against the coffee table. "Any pressing messages he had to give?"

I shrugged as I let myself sit on the armrest of the couch next to him and the warmth of the fire. Without thinking, he put a hand over my foot nearest to him, and the heat of his fingers sent shivers shooting up my spine. My skin prickled into goose bumps.

"He said my mental defenses had been beaten down to the point my spiritual eyes could open."

"Ahh," he said, probably because he already knew that.

"Don't 'ah' like you know everything. Am I going to see dead people every time I have a mental meltdown?"

"Probably," he said, his thumb starting circles over my toes. His dark eyes reflected the fire. "The more it happens, the more vulnerable you'll be to it."

I scowled. "Then why now? Why not when my dad or my mom died?"

"Did that break you as suddenly?"

And I wasn't surprised. No. It hadn't been like this. My father's death I hardly remembered. My mother's had broken over me like a wave on the shore. She had been disappearing so steadily over time, when she finally was gone, it was like a slow-coming burn. While not any less than this pain, I had been able to adjust slowly but surely.

This? This…had come like a rug pulled out from underneath me.

"How lame," I mumbled.

"Lame?"

"That stupid boy problems would be harder to deal with than my freaking parents dying."

"You haven't listened to a word I've said, have you?" he sighed. "To anyone who had a foundation, aka, love to fall back onto in the form of family in some shape or another, this would just be 'boy problems.' But you, who have no foundation, this is you trying to establish one, be it with friends or romance. Of course it's going to break you when you try to put your foot down to rest and the earth vanishes."

I rested my chin on the knee of the leg I had folded to my chest. "Like I said. Lame. It makes me sound so fragile."

"You _are_ fragile." He gave one last poke of the logs and hung up the poker. "Why do you think I've been so cautious about starting anything with you?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Oh, thanks. 'You're cute and all, but I don't want to date something that'll break.'"

He groaned and flopped his head back in exasperation. I readied myself for another scolding. But, instead, he got to his feat, moved to the end of the couch where I perched on the armrest, and pulled me down over his lap. At first, I squeezed my arms to my chest like a terrified child. Then, at his somewhat mocking, straight-lip smile I knew so well, I relaxed and let my arms go around his neck. There, I nuzzled my face against his hair.

"You're stupid," he murmured against my ear. "But, then, so am I."

"Are those your sweet seductive secrets whispered in my ear?"

He brushed his nose against my ear, breathed in, and let it out in a puff of "hush, you."

His lips trailed the shell of my ear. His arms about me tightened, giving him easy access to press his face to the hollow of my throat, where he placed another one of his soft, butterfly kisses.

I shivered. It was as though he had breathed in the flames he had coaxed back to life and saved them to press back into my skin.

After a moment of slow breathing against my throat, he spoke very quietly, "Yes. I'm jealous."

My hands clenched in his hair as the guilt prickled me.

"But not of you," he breathed, pushing his nose up to trail my jaw. "He…he would have been perfect for you. Everything you needed." A sigh. "Not like me."

I pulled against his arms, and he released me quickly, too quickly, probably all too ready for me to jump out of his arms. But, against his stupid self-esteem, I took hold of his face and kissed his mouth as passionately as I could with a healing, split lip. Feeling both silly and annoyed, I left one last peck to his nose before pulling away to look him in the eyes.

"You're right," I said. "You are stupid. And I hope I'm not a complete loser when it comes to kissing."

"On the contrary," his arms retightened about my waist and hips, pulling me round to spread me out on his couch beneath him. Though he held himself above me, gripping the couch cushions on either side, I could feel that same fire in the steady, unflinching way his eyes found mine. Without another word, he ducked his head down to kiss me as he had only done once in the shower, the kiss which had in turn made him flee. His tongue darted out only for a second to grace over my cut, as though to verify it was still okay, before he turned his head to slot his mouth over mine.

Fire, warm, luxurious, and burning out from low in my gut, washed over me.

All too soon, it was over, and he was once more looking down at me, framed by fringes of his straight, black hair.

"Now stop tempting me and go to bed. We can talk about what you saw in the morning."


	8. Touch'n the Ether is For Suckers

**Takigawa and Chance will be seen to.**

8

Ayako came flying out the moment I was home, pale and bright-eyed.

"You're okay!" she cried.

Her tackle-like hug swapped all my cloud-high feelings into the wall behind me.

"You never came back from working on the old science building and then I get that stupid cryptic email from the professor saying not to worry, but the last time you stayed at his house you came back acting like he'd raped your or something—"

"He did not rape me!"

She pushed me away to scream, "How the hell was I suppose to know!"

But I couldn't have said anything even if I had the words, because now I could see the tears in her eyes, and it shocked me to my core.

What had happened to my disconnected, apathetic roommate?

"You…you were that worried?"

She scowled. "Uh, yeah, dumbass. Did you honestly think I wouldn't? I'm the only thing you got in this world, and if I don't hear from you, who will?"

A wave of that warmth that shivered from my feet to the top of my head zipped up, leaving me feeling cracked open.

"Oh…" I said.

"Oh's right, and I swear, if you don't pick up your phone again—"

"I didn't have it, remember?"

"Screw that! You should have left me a note or something!" She threw her hands in the air. "That's it! I'm just—I'm not talking to you. This is the silent treatment, this is punishment, so frick. You're buying groceries for the rest of the month or, so help me god, I am dumping your ass!"

I flinched. "I'm sorry! I really, I…"

She let go of me and moved to stomp back to her room, but on looking back to send me one last glare saw my chin wrinkling up and my bottom lip curling big time. Letting out an explosive sigh, she stomped back over and tugged me back into another hug.

"I…I didn't think you cared…"I managed to squeeze out past the rock in my throat.

"How the heck did you get that idea? We're friends, aren't we?"

"Yes, I just…"

"You just what?"

I pulled back to rub my face hard. The snot works were well on their way.

"I…I'm not use to someone caring. I mean, I was comfortable asking you to be my roommate because I thought you'd be friendly and impersonal at the same time, because I'm not—I don't know how to do, you know, close stuff, like secrets and talking about feelings and thoughts and—I don't—I don't know how to…"

She let out another sigh, this one a bit softer than before, and pulled away so as to meet my eyes.

"You think too much," she gave me a little smirk. "You don't just decide to do those things, they just happen. Besides, you blurt whatever's on your mind anyways. Now…" she looked up past me and around, peeking around the still open door. "Why is Professor Ice dropping you off again? There's no way I'm taking that 'nothing's happening' crap again."

I gave her my best wobbly smile. "He likes me. He's taking me to church." Since Gene had told me all religions had a way to strengthen mental defenses, if there was a chance I didn't have to return to Spirit bitch, I'd grab hold with both hands. And I missed the sweet Father Brown.

She grimaced. "Yay? First date? Though, you know, dates are generally more…romantic—but hey, everyone has their own taste."

I laughed weakly. "It's not a first date."

"Then I take it you're back to get a dress? Oh no, I'm not letting you go until you swear to me you're telling me all the juicy details when you get back."

I gave her a thumb up. "The juiciest of the juicy."

Her answering smile reached her brown eyes. "That's the stuff."

I spent the rest of the day with Naru. I made dinner this time, and though I was no chef Boyardee, I was no slouch either. Even so, I had fun giving him crap for not showering me with praise. It was almost a game now, our teasing. He still couldn't do sarcasm—he just always sounded so serious. But the smile appeared so often, I thought for sure something bad awaited for me around the corner.

Not quite so. I had to wait till Tuesday.

Ms. Hara Masako sat so clean, cut, and cold in her pencil skirt and flowery silk blouse it put Professor Davis's grumpiest of days to shame.

I didn't have to wait for Lin. He sat right next to her, his candles and incense already set out on the little fold out table of his electric wheelchair. While he failed to look as rigid, his black eyes settled on me with all the weight of an iceberg.

The overwhelming sense of unwelcome nearly made me turn around and march right out the way I came. But the thought of telling my professor I'd run out on the medium lessons he'd set up for me made me stay. I couldn't be fragile forever.

"Take a seat," she said, polite as crisp napkins. "Prepare yourself for meditation with a focus on solidifying your image of true self. I trust you've been practicing?"

I held back a wince. "Yeah." Though I didn't know if she thought prayers to Jesus on the same level as contemplating the ether or whatever the flip she believed in. Father Brown seemed to think it was the same. At least he thought I was making progress.

She nodded and folded her hands as I got comfortable. Once I gave the go, she turned on a little stereo to play some of that weird yoga-ambient-groan/chime noise. Touch'n ether music.

After a few minutes of that, she asked, "Are you honest?"

I knew the answer to that a little better now: yes. Even sometimes when I shouldn't be, and even more so when I'm sleepy. But despite all my slip ups and saying the wrong things, I thought I liked that about myself. I wanted to be honest. Honest to a fault. So when I laid in bed at night in my worn out blue sheets and thought of mom, I wouldn't feel that ugly twist in my chest.

She continued on with the usual questions. Nice, lonely, etc. I still thought I was sarcasm, squares of plastic wrapped American cheese, and _Beevis and Butthead_ reruns, but remembering the week before made me think that, perhaps, there was something less…cheap and useless in myself. I saw it in the covert glances Naru shot my way in class, even as I desperately fought to hold myself from screwing with him in front of everyone. Our relationship had to be secret, after all. At least, while I was his student. Oh, but I had thought of over twenty unique ways to get his ears to turn red. It would have been delicious.

Finally, the groan/moan/chime music clicked off.

"Do you feel ready for another practice?" she asked.

"I think so," I said, trying not to wiggle in the couch as a show of bracing myself. Butts do not braced minds make.

"I suppose that's the best we can hope for," she said, giving the nod to Lin, who set to work lighting his candles and incense with his shaking, palsy hands.

"Though, um, Professor Davis mentioned something about protections of some sort? You know, sense the whole practice makes my mind weaker to possessions for a bit…?"

"I can't see why you would need those," she said, with a sniff. "There's nothing harmful around your home and your sensitivity could hardly summon anything farther than the room you're in."

I frowned. "Uh, what about the great humper you called up?"

The polite smile she gave me was somehow…mean. "He came from another apartment. My range is far wider and practiced than yours. No need to fear."

"But I could hardly walk home last time."

"You seemed to walk plenty fine to me," she said, her words becoming clipped. "The protections you speak of take time and effort to prepare, and therefore, money. If you are willing to pay, I'd be glad to provide them. But as of now the lessons I'm providing you are courtesy of Professor Davis. Normally you would have to go through a grueling screening process just to be considered, but since I trust Professor Davis's judgment…" she left it off there, giving me a steely look of finality. "I believe Lin is ready. If you'd close your eyes and prepare the stage of your mind."

Gulping, and despite my obvious unease, I closed my eyes and did so. As Lin started up his ethereal whistling, I sent a silent prayer..

_Gene, if you can hear me…_

When I opened my eyes next, five minutes had vanished. I was once more drenched in a cold sweat that made me regret taking off my jacket.

Ms. Masako looked amused. "Well…that was enlightening."

My stomach rolled. "Wh-what happened? What did I do?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," she said flippantly. "That was disappointing. You hardly gave up a fight. Is this what you have to show after a week of meditation? Prepare yourself."

With sinking heart, I scrambled for my faculties, fighting to focus on my own mind. Maybe if I focused on something purely me.

I thought of McDonalds hot chocolate and Naru walking besides me, pale as a ghost, his breath clouding in the late autumn air.

'_Looking, but not touching?'_ he said.

Lin's whistle pushed out all sounds of heartbeat or breath.

Twenty. I had thought of twenty ways to make him blush during class. And yet, the stop sign turning left at the boulevard had been loud and clear, if only that idiot truck had thought to listen to traffic laws, I wouldn't be drifting, lost, _smeared on the pavement_—

I jerked up.

"There you are," I breathed.

I pushed the strange thought aside.

Minutes passed, followed by more and more strange thoughts. I caught hold of one just as my eyes rolled into the back of my head by remembering Father Brown's warm hands on mine as we prayed together last Sunday.

'_Oh Father,'_ he had murmured, so low no one would have been able to hear unless they had knelt next to us. '_Help thine daughter to stand tall, as you do. Give her strength. Give her hope.'_

When Lin's whistling finally ended and I opened my eyes, ten minutes had passed and I remembered every one. Even so, the muscles in my neck felt like wire and my head ached something fierce.

"Very good," said Masako, though her smile didn't reach her eyes. "You were quite composed that time. There were a few times there I almost saw a spirit overlay you, but you held true."

My eyebrows shot up. "You can see them?"

She just smiled at me. "There's a reason I know you are not at the same level as me. Take a moment, then we'll start again."

With my brain all stretched out like taffy and my neck no longer flesh anymore, not to mention I was freaking _freezing_, I did not look forward to this. But backing out and losing face to her sounded so much worse.

So I just nodded and closed my eyes.

The third time Lin's whistling begun, I caught an alien thought almost instantly.

But the next thing I knew, I was blinking up at the ceiling, lain out on my back with one foot bent at a very uncomfortable angle against the door and my arm hurting something nasty.

"That was the most exciting one yet," said Ayako, a hand up to her mouth. "Though you have progressed significantly. Professor Davis will be pleased to hear this the next time we have lunch. I think we can call it a day."

I got to my feet slowly, every joint in my body shaking like a bad game of Janga.

_Lunch…? He has lunch with her?_

That shouldn't bother me. It shouldn't.

She bowed her head to me, her beautiful, doll-like face still giving me that perfected smile.

"Same time next week?"

Outside, my jacket did nothing against the cold. Navy shadows crept on against the dying golden sunset. Cars passed me in the street, all most likely filled with college students, based on their various degrees of old or battered. A set of Saudi students zipped by on bikes.

My head hurt.

My foot hit a wall, jarring me back. I looked up to find the business building's face of black glass and yellow-brown eighties brick looming over me.

"Wha…?" I had been passing the library last. Ms. Masako and I met in a room in a house refurbished for offices across the street from the university campus. It was owned by the university itself just for such kinds of unique lessons and meetings. The library had been across the street from it.

I sighed. "At least this didn't happen while I was crossing the street."

I reached into my pocket for my phone…

And found it wrapped around the rearview mirror of a bright red corvette in the parking lot.

I let go as though it were on fire, horrified.

"What—" then I got a look around me. I wasn't even on campus anymore. A grocery store, one I went to sometimes when I wanted to get a little nicer food, stood several rows of cars away. A middle aged woman chattering on her phone passed behind me, completely unaware.

Above me, full night had come over, with only the faintest of light blue in the west.

Panic, like a great spike, rammed through me. My breath came out in a long, terrified whin.

"Naru," I gasped. "Gene. _God, please._"

Even as I squeaked that, I heard something again, something that couldn't be me.

…_a 1989, just take it for a spin—pawn the radio while you're at it—_

_-I hate him I HATE HIM—_

_...black bumpers never show the blood…_

I thrust my hand into my pocket and brought up my phone. My finger jabbed at the screen, but it had gotten too cold for the sensor to register it.

I jabbed harder.

"Gene?" I whined again, looking around me, holding tight to…what?

And then I was opening my eyes once more at a place I had no memory of coming to.

But Naru was there, both hands on my arms, his face inches from mine.

"Mai?"

I was cold. Colder than I had ever been in my life. My jacket had gotten wet along the way and I couldn't feel my hands or feet.

And at the sight of him, and his dusty, pinsol scented house around him, I felt every muscle in my body seize up. Tightening until my head fell back into a bone rattling cry that buckled my knees.

He caught me.

"Mai! It's okay, you're safe now!"

I just wailed. The warmth of his house felt too much.

Gently, he leaned down to scoop up my legs, carrying me to his sofa. I had managed to reign back into normal enough sobs by then, even though the way my stomach muscles had bunched up beneath my lungs still fought to push out my breaths into long, ear-piercing whines.

He wrapped the fuzzy blanket around my shoulders before pulling me tight to him, hushing me and murmuring my name.

"It's okay, Mai. Gene had you. He brought you here. Nothing bad happened."

But how did I know that? I had been all the way at the grocery store parking lot before coming here. What had happened between Masako's office and there that had stopped Gene from getting to me there?

But I didn't have the space of mind to think of that. I couldn't seem to control myself anymore. I hurt, and I had to figure out how to breathe again.

"Shh, Mai, honey. I love you, it's okay. You're safe."

'_Mai…'_

My head jerked up, looking over Naru's shoulder, where a copy of him stood next to the empty fireplace, oddly pale in a bright way that didn't shine upon anything else. His broken expression held none of the anger I saw shadowing the Naru holding me.

'_I'm sorry,'_ it whispered from a distance. '_I tried to reach you. The other spirits were wrapped too closely. They had been called…'_ My eyes seemed to shift, as though twitching, and the image vanished.

But something drifted through to me, not through my ears, but through something within me.

'_Something's wrong. Mai, it's dangerous.'_

Stunned by what I was seeing and hearing, my sobs halted as I held my breath, desperate to hear more. I blinked hard to clear the tears, and the vision of Gene flickered through, though faint, as though I looked at his reflection in a window.

And he wore a blue shirt.

'_Mai…'_ he called. '_Something's…wrong…'_

"Mai?" Naru pulled back to see my face, but I was afraid to move my eyes. "Mai…what are you looking at?"

I blinked, Gene vanished, and I looked to Naru.

Only to have my vision go black.


	9. Black Magic was Next Semester

**Author's note: Sorry about the confusion. When my main character is confused and is the narrator, I suppose it's pretty hard to avoid confusing the reader as well...**

9

The old apartment my mother and I used to share hadn't changed from the day she had died. The dishes from dinner the night before still sat in the sink, her bed had been left unmade, its blue sheets that I still used back to their usual dark navy vibrancy. Though how I could see her bed and still stand in the living room should have been impossible. There was a wall in-between me and it. And yet see it I could, along with my pink, My Little Pony comforter and a slew of stuffed animals. Then my eyes would flicker, just like when they seemed to shift while I was looking at Gene, and instead of our bedroom, I looked at the old fat tube TV. The glass coffee table framed with chipped brass legs. The old green couch.

I stepped around the corner to see the room again, only to find another door across from it. I opened it, expecting to find the closet, but instead found an entire other room. I hesitated, looking at the other two doors which were open enough for me to see the bathroom and bedroom, then stepped through.

It had the same stained, old baby blue carpet that needed to be replaced. Blinds covered the window, painting the room in stripes of sunlight.

I made it out as I focused on its bits. There was a short leather couch. A brown and black dressed full-sized bed. A tall, heavy wood dresser, one that looked as though it came from the era when furniture was made to last lifetimes rather than the next few years.

"Oliver?" Even as I spoke his name, I could make out the tribal African masks on the walls. I thought I could smell his leathery musk.

He lives with us? In our closet? Our…really big closet…that had grown a window.

"Mai."

The sound of the voice made my heart jump. I twisted around.

Takigawa stood in the doorway, his face tragically long.

"Why would you lie?" he whispered.

But before I could think of what to say, or even remember what he was talking about, he slunk back into a darkness that had encroached on the rest of the hall.

I followed after him, driven by the need to explain, what, I didn't quite have a grasp on.

Just to find myself standing once more in the living room with the green couch, which had grown to curl around the wall like a massive multi-sectional beast. The tube TV had shrunk.

And Chance leaned against the wall next to the front door.

"Are you ready?" he asked, giving me his wide, beautiful smile—the one that made his brown eyes glow and spoke of the beautiful man he'd be once he grew into those lanky limbs.

"To face the end," he said.

I blinked and his face seemed to age, to change, but then I blinked again and it was the same broad, bright smile.

And he lifted a black handgun. The same one I had used to save him. Professor Davis's gun.

Fear, as I had never known, froze my insides as painful as the worst brain freeze and knives.

I lifted up my hands, but the fear closed off my throat with an iron fist.

"Someone seeks to judge you," he said, cocking it. The click sounded like thunder. "They want to see the true you."

"Are you honest?" Takigawa sat up from a corner of the elongated couch I had somehow missed. The tiny tube TV must have hidden him.

"Are you friendly?" Chance straightened from the wall. "Are you good?"

A gong came from the kitchen, and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the sink tip down from the counter to spill the dirty dishes onto the old linoleum. Mismatched chinaware crashed against forks and knives.

The ivory walls darkened to a congealed light brown, turning the light from the living room window to a sickly yellow.

Why were they doing this? Chance? Takigawa? Why them?

But then I knew. Because I had broken them. On looking more closely, their faces transformed. Chance's broad white smile, which had always been so friendly, turned to a painful grimace beneath too large dark eyes. Takigawa's tragic expression grew to a ghoulish mask, the groves around the corner of his mouth cutting out past his jawline, his eyes narrowing.

Pow. Lightning, thunder, bursting through my chest. I stumbled back and onto my knees, blood pouring from the new hole between my breasts.

I didn't expect the pain, and yet, there it was, skyrocketing with my frantic heartbeat and pouring out with the blood onto the baby blue carpet.

"That stain will be hard to get out," said Chance, his converse sneakers appearing in my vision. "Your mama doesn't have the money to deal with it."

"This place's owners will get angry," said Takigawa, and I saw his brown shoes in my vision as well. He had crossed the living room like a thought.

The hard end of the pistol pressed against my head.

"Are you lonely?" asked Chance. "Are you strong?"

My arm swung up, knocking the pistol aside a breath before it let loose another world-shattering pang. Darkness reached out from the brown walls and broken kitchen for me, followed by the warped mask of Takigawa and the lengthening smile of Chance. I backtracked, but slowly, as my limbs grew heavier and heavier from blood loss. My entire front had become painted with scarlet.

I twisted about, stumbled, fell, and settled for crawling back towards the rooms. I had three choices—mine and my mother's bedroom, the bathroom, or Naru's room?

With an agonizing amount of effort, I lunged towards Naru's room and kicked his door shut behind me. I moved to lock it, but my body had run out and the darkness encroached ever closer, the tendrils of black wearing the African tribal masks from Naru's walls. They hovered over me, unreadable.

I sucked in a breath and listen to the air suck and smack against the hole in my chest.

"Too bad…he's not here…" they whispered.

"Lonely…" echoed Takigawa's voice from the other side of the door. "Through her own fault."

"That's not very strong," said Chance's. "She'll bleed out any second now and then we can take her. I asked her if she was ready."

"Not very honest," said Takigawa. "So, not very good, in the end."

"Doesn't really matter if she's friendly at this point."

I couldn't move at all. It was a complete wonder that I could see or think at all. I knew I was dying. I knew I was dead. The only thing I waited, for now, was the shift, the transition, to the other side. Tears coursed down my face as I thought of the man who this room had been made for, if I could still see it. I had wanted more mornings waking up to have breakfast with him. I had wanted to see what it would be like to make a home with him filled with people who loved me. I had wanted to try out one of those twenty things to make his ears change color during class. Such an unshakeable man looked irreproachably beautiful when embarrassed.

Something blue streaked down from way up high in the blackness. It fell down to me, reaching with hands I could only make out as light. As it came upon me, more of the figure became clear, but I didn't recognize the young man who landed beside me without so much as a flinch of his knees. It was as though he hadn't landed at all, but just appeared. All I knew was that his face looked so odd to me without a smile. His must have filled the whole room…I had seen it, once, maybe?

"Mai, hold on," he said, his voice like a whisper from a distance, yet each word reaching straight to my core.

I looked at him, drinking in the kind face. His presence warmed my dying body. Yes. I had been lonely.

He had black hair like him. Like my love.

Calmed by the light he shed on me, the iron claws of fear let loose around my throat and I tried to reach out a hand to him.

"Are you taking me?" I asked.

"It isn't your time," his frown was impossibly fierce for such a warm presence. "Someone is trying to bring you here before it, and to darkness and misery. They're trying to drag you to where they are in hell."

"Hell exists?"

He nodded and tapped the side of his head. "It's all about perception. Hell is a state of being, Mai. Not a place."

And with those words, it came back to me in a rush that made my flat, motionless and bloodless chest suck up in sudden energy.

"Gene!"

Finally, he smiled, and I saw him. I saw him. But he looked completely different from when I had seen him before. He didn't look like Naru at all, though it was obvious they were related. Even as I thought this, I tried to pick out what I thought so, and couldn't. It was still obvious they were twins, and yet the boy I looked at could have never passed off to be Naru, at least, to me.

"It's working," he said. "You remembered. Come on, now, listen. You should hear him."

His warm hands slipped under me and sat me up with ease. The hole in my chest didn't flow, only oozed. There wasn't much blood left in me.

But Gene had slipped about me, propping me against his chest and wrapping his warm arms around me.

I listened hard. I could hear a murmuring, but from where, I couldn't tell.

"Gene," I breathed, blinking up into the blackness kept back by his light. "Why are you here? Why do you talk to me? You…you don't know me."

"Ah, but I do," his thumb brushed down my cheek. "Didn't I tell you I wouldn't abandon my family?"

My stomach clenched. "Oh no, don't tell me we're secretly related."

He laughed out loud at that.

"Never fear, Mai dear. Noll is perfectly legal to marry. No," his thumb brushed me again. "I just know. There's no one else in this world Oliver would open his heart to then you. I can already see it in him, in his intentions. You're as good as my sister already."

Warmth, hot like the fire Naru breathed into me with his kiss, flooded through my being.

The murmuring had grown louder. I could make out voices.

"There he is now," he leaned me back, slowly and ever gently. "Father's coming for you. It's okay, now."

A light was coming down from where Gene had come from, far above.

I bit my lip and shivered, missing his warmth. A dying body was awfully cold.

"But I hurt people," I pushed out. "I'm not good. I'm not…happy."

"And you are deeply loved all the same." His warm fingers brushed around my face and through my hair with a tenderness I had only felt in a memory I couldn't quite catch. Somewhere long ago, when I was still so small and treated so preciously.

The darkness shrunk away. The African masks, which had been fading while watching, fully turned away now, shying from the light. With it came warmth that scared the remaining pain throbbing in my chest.

"You are loved," Gene continued to murmur. "You are cherished. You are strong. You are precious."

Each word brought a new strength to my limbs. The whistle in my chest vanished. New breath filled my limbs and the light grew ever brighter.

"You are good."

My eyelids flew open. I hissed and raised a hand to the light shining in my face, even as feeling returned to my body.

"Mai!"

Squinting, I made out Naru's face, pale to the point of gray compared to the lightning-like visage of his brother. My eyes adjusted and I saw his blue eyes shivering on my face, along with the worried frown of Father John Brown.

"Naru?" I croaked. Then shivered. "Damn, it's cold."

The next thing I knew I had been yanked up and into his arms. My legs fell off what I quickly found was a church pew and would have fallen knee first, except Naru's arms around my torso kept me upright.

He pressed his face into the curve of my neck.

I gasped as several bones cracked. "Ack! Prof! Prof, slow down! What's going on? What—"

"You were cursed, Mai," said Father Brown, who had ducked around Naru to meet my face from behind him, a hand on my head, his other on Naru's back. His freckles stood out like flecks of chocolate against his pale skin. He didn't look much better than Naru had. "I've seen nothing like it. I-I'd only heard stories…"

Now that I thought about it, my forehead did feel suspiciously wet, and I couldn't recall having ever put on a necklace, especially one that would dig into my breastbone this bad while being hugged. Owe.

But as Naru took a slow, ragged breath, I couldn't find it in myself to pull away, no matter how uncomfortable it was. So I took the time to steady myself by taking in the familiar surroundings of the city chapel where Father Brown presided. There was something infinitely calming about the sweeping stone arches and the angel painted ceilings.

"I…I didn't do anything, uh, super wacko…did I?" I asked.

"Well, I don't know all the details—"

"Stop," cut in Naru. "She doesn't need to know."

There was something. "Um, I kinda do? Student of the freaky, victim of said curse, my body."

"Let me rephrase myself," he pulled back, making me shiver from the onrush of cold. His eyes shining, and his lips thin. "You don't want to know."

I blinked. Shivered. "I didn't try to ninja rape you, did I?"

Father Brown laughed, but Naru did not. He didn't even try to smile.


	10. Of Goodly People

**Author's note: It's ironic how preachy people can get when they're telling you why you're preachy.**

10

No, I had not ninja raped anyone, as he told me, with all the humor of a cancer ward, that he wouldn't have allowed it to happen even if I had tried. I didn't have the chance to question him further on that thought, as he swiftly charged Father Brown with my protection ("She is not to leave this church, not even a toe, until I return, I'm certain you can understand,") and left with all the gusto of a man on a mission. The hardened, narrowed look to his eyes and the set, clench of his jaw left me stunned.

Oh my. That man was handsome. And terrifying.

"What is he doing?" I asked as John gently led me by the hand to the living quarters hidden in the back of the chapel, the doorway tucked away behind the altar.

"I imagine he is seeing to those that cursed you," said John.

I blinked at him stupidly. "So this is for real. I was cursed, like, voodoo magic cursed."

"I don't know about voodoo, but…" the warmth on his face wavered in the face of consternation. "It wasn't pretty, Mai. If I…if I had had any less sense, I would have done evreything in my power to have taken you to the hospital instead."

That made me pause at the stairs, but another soft tug got me moving.

"You're like ice, Mai. We need to get you to the shower."

I didn't argue with that. I couldn't remember the last time I had been this cold. Though, why I wasn't shivering, I didn't know. I was tired, yes, exhausted, really. If John hadn't kept pulling me forward, I might have remained on that church bench until sleep had taken me.

But soon I found myself in a simple, clean tiled bathroom, with a single bathroom stall in the corner, a tiny closet-like, tiled shower, cut off from the rest by a simple green plastic curtain, and a sink.

"We have some second-hand clothes that are being donated to charity in the morning," he said, as he showed me how to work the shower's ancient knobs. "I'll find something that will fit you. Leave your ruined clothes in this bag and I'll burn them."

_Burn them?_

Only then did I look down at myself.

Congealed, black gunk and blood covered the front of my shirt and pants, splattered around me as though I had walked through flaying noodles of gore.

And then I realized the funny taste in my mouth hadn't been dry mouth from a long sleep, but the coppery tang of blood as well.

My knees gave out from beneath me.

I didn't really know why. My brain wouldn't provide an answer. Nor would my leaden, dead limbs who demanded I stay put.

I could feel more than see the spike in Father Brown's concern, maybe even panic, as he heaved me back to my feet and asked to look for wounds. At my nod, he cautiously peeled off my jacket, revealing my scarred, Frankenstein arms. Tossing my jacket to the side, he wetted up a paper towel from the dispenser to wipe away blood, before carefully lifting my shirt to examine my stomach. At the threatening tremble of my legs, he eased me back down to the floor and set to rolling up my pant legs and taking off my shows.

"Scratches, mostly," he murmured, his thumb tracing the shiny pink bumps of my scars. His fingers lifted my face, pulling down my eyelid to examine my eyes. He pinched my wrist, counting my heartbeats.

"I hurt," I heard, shocked when I heard it from my own mouth, only to find it was true.

"Bruised," he said, more to himself than me. "Yes, Mai, if you could get into the shower and clean off. I can take a closer look when you get out, but right now you're so cold you can hardly feel anything." Before rising, he brushed a thumb on one of my scars one more time. Something like pain crinkled his nose and pinched his eyebrows together. "Spirits caused this…didn't they?"

I looked at my arm and nodded.

"I'm sorry," I said.

He just gave me a sad smile and helped me into the shower.

"Oh, and a towel," he said. "I'll get one as well. And here's the bag."

With that, he closed the curtain, leaving me half sprayed by hot water and clothed.

For an immeasurable amount of time, I stood there and watched red and chucks of mystery substance stream off my pants and feet to the drain. The hands that eventually moved to unbutton my pants were purple and numb and made getting my pants off a lot like using sticks to get them off. I soon managed to get naked and under the spray, however, and soon the whole floor of the shower had turned red, streaming with the little chunks that proved to be remains of my post-Medium-training dinner. So blood and vomit.

The porous metal mouth of the drain ate it all.

A white bar of soap was in the corner on a little green plate. I rubbed it up and down vigorously, overtaken by a sudden urge to scrub until even the very memory of my sticky clothes and cold couldn't reach me. My fingers popped from the effort, and my nails scoured a few times as I grew careless. The scratches John had mentioned crisscrossed my belly, hardly deep, but vibrant red against my pale skin. It was almost as if I had tried to claw something out myself, but had been stopped before I could get past my shirt.

_You don't want to know._

Father Brown returned with a cautious call of my name, which I returned so he wouldn't think I'd fainted in the shower. He put the towel and clothes in front of the curtain and told me he'd check in on me every few minutes to make sure I was okay.

When the door clicked shut, I forced my stiff fingers to free the soap and kneeled on the floor. There, I leaned my forehead against the wall.

Then, I stopped thinking. The patter of hot water on my head and back filled the empty space of my head.

Later, I found Father Brown sitting in a chair outside the bathroom, reading out of a book. He stood up to take my hand again, something I found oddly reassuring. I got the distinct impression these friendly touches were for my sake, to ground me from something I had yet to identify.

"I set up a cot," he said. "And there's some soup. Do you feel like eating?"

I didn't know. I honestly didn't, and I told him so.

"Something sweet and light, then, perhaps."

He bundled me up on the cot, which was a lot more comfier than I remembered, in the corner of the spare room we had used when we had come to investigate his church. An old computer had been set up in the corner, with an old glass tube monitor, along with several cardboard boxes.

John left and returned with a sweet, honeyed chamomile tea. Only then did he return to the subject of my physical well-being, which I was able to confirm was only a very sore stomach, general aches all over, and the scratches on my stomach.

"Well, I'm sure the professor acted quickly," he said with a soft smile.

I swallowed my tea and bit my lip.

"Will…will he be okay?" The first quiver of anxiety reached through the numb void. "They…they won't curse him too, will they?"

"From what I understand of curses, they require time. I doubt whoever it is could do the same as you to him at the drop of a hat."

I scratched the plain little mug. "I wonder if he even knows who they are…"

"Do you?"

I frowned. "I don't even know how curses are done." I remembered the cold, garish masks of Takigawa and Chance in the weird dream and shook myself. "The only thing remotely mystical that has happened to me over the last month are those stupid medium practices."

John leaned back on the chair he had pulled over from the computer desk. He folded his hands over his knee. "You mentioned those on Sunday. Could you give me details?"

I didn't have to say very much about them before his young, round face cut into a very uncharacteristic frown. One that almost looked…angry, except for the fact I didn't know whether the kindly priest could do anger.

"Mai…" he hesitated, long enough for me to decide that, yes, he was angry, and instinctually shrink back. "I know because you are a medium you have more experience with being influenced by spirits than most, but people aren't just…possessions don't happen at the drop of a hat. Simple whistling couldn't tear away the natural wall between spirit and mortal, it's _your_ body. Sin injures that wall and allows it in, but…" he hesitated. "You're…you're not involved with immoral practices, are you? I won't judge. I am a priest."

I flinched. "No! I haven't even drunk alcohol before or—I mean—I've never even had a boyfriend until now, and we only kissed…" I went rigid, Takigawa's hands scraping over me coming to mind, but I had been possessed at the medium practices before that.

Even so, my eyes started to burn.

"I…is kissing bad?" I hesitated, thinking about the heart-stopping guilt beneath the garish faces of Chance and Takigawa. "Is not loving someone back?"

Father Brown looked alarmed. "No! No, of course not, no. I wasn't implying anything, Mai. And I don't sense anything amiss in you. It—it simply seemed prudent to at least ask." He sighed. "Forgive me. The point is, sin is the natural remover of that defense between you and the influences that would wish you harm. The fact that these…medium teachers of yours could bypass that obstacle without conscience consent on your part is troubling. I don't know much about how mediums and the like work, but that's how I understand possessions, namely demonic."

Pulled my legs to my chest and tucked my hands into the oversized yellow sweatshirt he had found me. "So that's what happened? I got possessed by a demon? Those…those exist?"

John's warm hand brushed my still-damp hair.

"Hush," he breathed. "There is no need to dwell on that. You are completely safe now. And the professor…well, not only is he quite famous in his capabilities concerning these, but, in my, ahem, professional opinion, I think he likes you."

That made me smile, even if only a little. He returned it, that soft look returning to his eyes that always made me feel precious. It reminded me strongly of Gene as he held me at the end.

"You're a good man," I said as I realized it, down to my core.

"Thank you."

"No, really. It's like I feel it in my gut, and my guts shouting it at my heart." I pointed to my chest. "You're…you mean every good thing you do."

His smile faltered, though the soft look in his eyes didn't. He seemed to consider what I said, then nodded.

"I wouldn't say I do it perfectly, but…I do try."

Taking his hand from my head, where it had been gently patting it, he stood to fetch his book and returned to his chair.

"Try to get some sleep," he said. "If you want. I'll be standing watch."

"Thanks," though I didn't know exactly what it was he was standing watch for, my exhaustion wouldn't be ignored for much longer.

I at least managed to finish my tea before tucking away beneath a slightly ragged, patchwork quilt and passing out cold.


	11. Entertainment

**Author's Note: The reason it took me so long to update is because I **

**A. was debating on rewriting it to include face offs**

**B. Have had seriously bad anxiety lately over my writing and making use of it**

**C. anxiety disorders kill your brain stamina**

11

I would have much rather not dreamed, but Gene appeared to me all the same.

"Sorry, you'll be seeing me for a bit," he said, his look of apology completely alien to Naru's face. "Mental defenses down and all that. When you stop seeing me will be a good sign that you've healed."

I just mentally sighed, too tired to think. Even as I looked at him my awareness faded in and out.

When it faded back in he knelt beside where I lay, his hand was once more on my face, warm with intentions.

"I'll keep you safe," he murmured. "But, in the meantime…want to do some snooping?"

I shifted drowsily.

"Sleepy…" I whined.

"Oh, but it's Naru. He's narrowing in on his foe who dared to harm his woman."

I laughed weakly.

"Come on," Gene tugged gently on my hands, pulling me up as though my body were a sheet in the wind. "This will be fun. You have plenty of time to rest."

So, giving my consciousness a mental shake of thoughts, I focused and allowed him to pull me along.

The darkness about me blotched and blurred with colors that cleared to images. I saw snow. A streetlamp. Stars. A high-rise, ritzy apartment complex I didn't recognize, but which I instantly knew was in the more well to do part of the city.

Finally, we stepped into a hallway, lined with white doors boasting gold numbers and shiny mail slots. I couldn't make out the carpet, though I got a heady impression that it was clean, colorful, and relatively new.

Across the blured rainbow of the carpet, my eyes fell on dark shoes and legs that led up to none other than my professor, an arm held out against the frame of an open doorway I had somehow missed before.

"This is…weird…" I said. "Everything feels so different and…"

"Dreamlike?" Gene filled in, tugging me closer to Naru. "The spiritual plane. Since you don't have eyes of flesh, the way you are perceiving things now are through your spiritual senses, which I imagine you're not use to, being alive and all. It's not like having eyeballs."

That would explain why I felt like I was 'seeing' emotions and textures, while having a hard time making out details like the exact colors and patterns in the carpet.

"…it wasn't me, I swear on my life…"

Masako Hara's voice sounded different as well, as though it came straight to my chest rather than to my ears.

My vision cleared and focused on Naru's face with hyper clarity.

What I saw made me flinch back.

He was pale, yet livid with an ice-hot fury that curled back his lips and sharpened his eyes to obsidian slits. Not a trace of blue could be seen.

"I find that hard to believe from a professional like you who just sat back and watched her get possessed several times in the space of a half hour," he said with steady venom.

"Ooo, he's mad," said Gene from the peanut gallery.

Without moving, I could see Masako Hara, as though the doorway had become transparent.

She wore a set of red satin pajamas, her hair mussed, and her eyes ultra bright with tears. She had a fist clutched to her breasts. Somehow, however, with my strange spiritual perceptions, I thought I could see consternation in her, like an air of tension holding fast to body like a skin of glass.

In her other hand, I saw her Smartphone.

"I have no motive," she said. "And you no proof."

"And perhaps no skill," he hissed. "But you still sat there and let it happen. Where's Lin?"

"I'd imagine you'd know more than me, he being your previous assistant—"

Naru slammed his hand on the doorframe, making her jump. He held out his other hand.

"Your phone."

She put it behind her. "I can call the police. It's not like they'll believe—"

Naru moved like lightning, snatching her phone out of her hand. She jumped for it, but he just shoved her back into her apartment and closed the door behind him.

Gene stepped forward, but I withdrew.

"I don't want to see this…" I said.

Gene gave me what I could best describe as puppy eyes, somewhat ruined by the dance of mischief in them.

"But he's being all brash and daring and heroic. It's entertainment of the highest caliber."

"No it's not," I said. "It's scary."

Gene rolled his eyes. "He isn't going to hurt her. He's just going to squeeze out Lin's contact info and leave—and then hurt Lin."

"Lin? Why him?"

"I'd think it's obvious by now." He reached for my hand and tugged on it. "We're going to miss the best part!"

"By why would Lin curse me? Forget how."

Gene moved to respond, but just then Naru burst forth from the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Stuffing something into his pocket, he proceeded to march down the hall through us, his black leather coat swinging after him.

Gene moved to follow, but this time it was me who caught onto his wrist.

"Just answer my question."

"I will while we follow. It's hard to find living people here, if you catch my drift. Being dead doesn't give you a radar."

So we drifted after Naru down the elevator, where I avoided looking at Naru for Gene, who looked far too comfortable standing next to his brother, a mirror image in black clothes and duster, though I kept seeing him in a blue shirt and jeans as well.

"Lin's practically a paraplegic now because of that case he had back in Los Angelos. It doesn't seem to matter to him that there were other students on the case, he's got his eye on you since you were the last thing he saw before he dropped off the railing. I'm sure he has a lot of other reasons, but those were what I've been able to glen. As sprits, you are sometimes given the means to read minds, but that's not so much the case with me."

Whatever I had been about to say concerning Lin's soft reason for revenge drifted off. "Wait, given?"

"That's right." The elevator dinged open and the two Naru's drifted out, one distinctly different from the other with his smiling, mischievous face and occasionally shifting clothes.

"By who?"

"I think you know. But, point is, Lin's got it out for you and he has the knowledge of how to direct and convince enough dark spirits to go after you. Hence, 'a curse' or demonic possession. I actually originally tried to get in contact with you to warn my brother of Lin, but, as is the case with most who deal with what Naru calls 'black magic,' the company he attracted made him especially vulnerable to dark influences, which got him away from my brother."

We rode in a taxi, with no memory on my part of how we got in. The only clear beacon had been Naru's dark figure and the ultra-clear vision of his white, burning indignation.

I drew back. "Gene, can I go back?"

"You don't need me to do that," he said gently, patting my leg. "You can do that yourself just by willing it. You're the one sticking around."

"That's because I wanted to hear your explanation."

"Well, you got it. It's not like you're not going to see me tomorrow night as well, unless I get called to see to some other pressing business. Unlikely, though, as I intend to stick around to help keep off any of the other losers that would like to take advantage of you."

I smiled. "You're definitely more chatty than your brother." The colors and amount of 'feelings' and 'textures' in my vision faded a bit as my focus wavered wearily. "Let me know before he does something dangerous?"

Gene snorted, which was odd as he didn't have the nose or breath to do so, but the intention and expression still came through loud and clear.

This whole 'spirit senses without a body' thing was beyond confusing.

"Not sure what you can do under house arrest, but I'll do my best. Naru's got more than me watching over him, after all."

I blinked and looked around, but saw little else but black leather seat the two, darkly dressed twins.

Gene chuckled good naturedly.

"You don't need to see them," he said, softly. "And you won't until you do."

I didn't get why I'd need to see dead people at all, but my exhaustion had worn on me long enough. If I'd had my body, I'm sure I'd have yawned wide enough to break my jaw by now.

"Keep him safe," I said, letting my eyes, or whatever equivalent of them were on this plane, close.

I thought I felt something like a hand brushing through my hair, trailing with it all the soft and gentle affection the gesture meant to convey.

"Yes ma'am. "

And the comforting darkness I longed for curled in around me, only occasionally broken through by distant bursts of vision and occasional murmurs.


	12. Superheroes Aren't Hot

**Anxiety under control, Privates! Will continue! Got the chapter after this written as well. *salute* Thank you for your patience!**

12

I woke up at ten, to which Father Brown felt the need to congratulate me for as I sleep-waddled into the kitchen.

"Twelve hours," he even clapped. "Maybe closer to thirteen. I wasn't able to get that much since I was a teenager."

I didn't ask if that was last year, which meant the cheese wheel part of my brain was running, at least.

Father Brown had four monster stock pots stewing on the two stoves, each one large enough to cook a child. Of course, no children. I would have been worried if boiled children smelled so good. Though I've heard people taste a lot like pork.

He wore a polo t-shirt and jeans, with a white, tattered apron and had his hands busy chopping three carrots, which he did like a whizz, then pushed off into the pot nearest to him.

"Would you like some oatmeal?" he asked, pulling over three more peeled carrots.

"While you're busy with that? Dude, if you do anything more for me you're going to own my soul. I can afford a…" I blinked. "Where did my bag end up?"

"You didn't have it when the Professor brought you in."

While I was busy scrunching up my face, trying to remember when I had last had it, the Father tore, poured, and popped a bowl of something in the microwave.

"Hey! Not so fast!"

"You don't like strawberry?" he asked, eyes wide with mock innocence.

"You could put the best housewife to shame."

He chuckled at that, pulling out a spoon and milk. "Nah. Just been in charge of the soup kitchen more often than not. Whether or not I get volunteers is a hit or miss these days." The microwave dinged and he carefully took out the bowl.

"Why didn't you ask me? I'd love to help you out."

"Well, I hear college students are always busy."

I snorted. "Yeah, because they say they're volunteering at soup kitchens when they're actually having Halo tournaments, which are key to proper procrastination." I slid out and caught the bowl before he could set in front of me.

"Is that so?" He leaned across the kitchen to the fridge. "Milk?"

I nodded and he pulled it out. "Social life is very important. We are in the height of our mating season." I paused at his snort and backtracked. "Not that I'm doing that. Not that I have. Frick, after all that crap I gave Naru for assuming all college kids were rutting about."

He handed me a cup of milk he had poured. "Naru?"

"Oh, the professor. Just a random nickname I gave him."

"Is there a story behind it?"

"I thought he was a narcissist and wanted to give him a nickname based of it, but 'Narc' didn't really sound all that great. Especially not in spelling. And apparently his dead brother use to call him Naru, and since he talks to me sometimes…" I dumped half the milk on the oatmeal and stirred.

John stopped cutting with his eyebrows high. "What? His brother?"

I hesitated, wondering if I shouldn't have said that.

"Best you not mention I told you that," I said with a cautious smile, which the Father returned.

"I am quite practiced at keeping secrets."

After I finished my oatmeal, even though I was essentially shoeless, braless, and pantyless, I shuffled over and insisted I help finish up the soups and ended up with the too-long yellow sweat-shirt sleeves rolled up to my shoulders so I could knead the crap out of the largest mound of dough I'd ever seen. John had to teach me how to do it first, as my mother hadn't been much of a cook and I had never bothered making homemade bread.

Thus, when Professor Davis walked through the kitchen door it was to find me covered in flour, sweaty, and being eaten alive by the mustard colored sweatshirt and tied up sweats.

He blinked, then gave a half-smile, which was something 60 degrees north of his more usual straight line. It was ruined by the heavy shadows beneath his eyes and the faint gristle of whiskers about his jawline, both of which stuck out against his white face and complementary blackety-black clothes.

"You're up," he said, in a half-mutter to himself.

I gave him my brightest smile. "I'm making bread! True wifely material right here, be seduced!"

John doubled over his cutting board, fighting to stop himself from laughing face first into his knife.

But it really must have been seductive, because Naru crossed the distance of the kitchen in two long strides and wrapped his arms tight about my middle, nuzzling my hair before turning to rest his cheek on it.

"Thank you, Father," he breathed.

"No problem," said John, his expression soft.

"Careful, Prof," I wiggled my head. "Your ice-shell is melting. How are you going to be cool now?"

"I'll just have to get shot again," he muttered, but he did back off once he had given me one last squeeze. No sooner had he done so than he stumbled back into the counter adjacent and slid down to the floor.

Both me and John cried out his name and crowded about him. Naru waved at us, though it was with his left hand and he winced as he did so.

"Just tired," he said.

But even as John fluttered uncertainly and offered tea or bed, I was no such idiot. I took hold of the black collar of the idiot's leather duster and yanked it down, making Naru hiss.

"Mai—"

Sure enough. The entire right side of his shirt was soaked. It was a good thing his shirt was black, or the good Father behind me might have fainted.

"John, get a first aid-kit."

"Wait, that's—oh my," he all but ran from the kitchen.

"It's nothing," Naru said, exhaustion all but apparent. "I just tore open my stitches."

"Doing what? Hell, you are not allowed to give me any crap about doing dangerous or unnecessary crap after this." I was already tearing at his buttons.

He hissed again. "Careful!"

"You deserve this pain. How did telling of a freaking paraplegic tear open your stitches, huh? Ugh, and if the cops get involved they're going to throw you in jail and I'm going to have to pick a freaking new major—"

"Wait, what? You knew?"

"Three years of college, Mr. Davis, down the drain! And after I told that drama-loving idiot twin of yours to keep an eye on you—"

"You saw Gene?"

"Of course I saw Gene!" his shirt came undone with a violent snap, revealing smears of blood across a pale…rather nice chest. "My brain or whatever organ I'm using to be all psychic has been bashed against the ground. Learning mental defenses my ass," I growled, though it tapered off as my fingers smeared with red. Far more carefully, I peeled him out of his shirt and duster.

Father John rushed in with one of those old fashion white tin boxes with a big red cross on it. He froze on seeing all the blood.

"Good heavens, Professor, what happened to you?"

"I just tore some stitches," he ran his good hand down his face. "It's too early for this. I should have just gone home."

But John and I were able to clean him up pretty good, though the raw, oozing hole, framed on one side by the now useless stitches, still made my gut twist even as my neck and stomach heated up while reaching around him to get the bandages wrapped around.

"There," I tied them off. "And you're going to the doctor as soon as…"

I trailed off as I realized Naru's head on my shoulder wasn't moving.

"I think he fell asleep," said John softly.

I sighed. "Well I'm not carrying him to bed, he ain't no princess." I poked him in the gut, making him flinch. "Oy!"

He cursed, moaned, and forcibly pushed me away, but said nothing. Instead, he put a hand to his head.

"Come on, professor," said John a bit more kindly than me (I guess I wasn't all that nice of a person when I was worried). "I've got a bed still up."

There wasn't much more I could do to help Naru get to bed, especially since I could almost feel the waves of irritation coming off him from having to accept John's help at all.

The moment I found myself alone in the kitchen, however, whatever bravado and anger I had been riding on fly out and I found my throat hurting.

"What on earth did you do?"


	13. Heart Breaker

13

"I just told Ms. Hara that, being the leading expert in psychics, I could easily destroy her reputation."

"Was I asking about her?" I said dryly.

It was the end of class on Monday, as Naru and John had chased me home with promises of healthy self-care on my boyfriend's part. He had texted me enough to get me off my back, saying he'd tell me after class (probably so he could think up a good lie).

Well, it was after class. Godmother of the mafia Mai here to collect.

"We just got in a bit of a tussle," he said calmly, stacking the pile of essays and tapping them on the desk to straighten the pile.

"He couldn't walk let alone hold incense straight last time I saw him."

"He was acting."

"Gene told me he cursed me because he blames me for his condition."

Naru's hands stilled for perhaps a fraction of a second before smoothly sliding them into his blackety black bookbag.

"Anger and adrenaline can do a lot to a person."

With a closed mouth yell, I slammed my open fists on the desk.

"If you insist on lying to me, can you at least give me the reason why? It's not because you had hot kinky gay sex, is it?"

Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't that, and he nearly dropped his bag. The look he gave me could have made the terminator faint.

"Mai," was all he said.

"The correct answer is: 'It's for your own good, my love. I fear what would happen to your delicate heart and mind should I tell you.' And then I would say, 'bullshit, beloved dearest, for I am a strong, independent woman,' and we continue fighting until we fall into a steamy make-out session where we confess all and get over this dramatic episode."

As I expected, his frown faltered and twitched, and the dark look to his eyes fell away to an amused spark.

"People can still hear you," he said lightly, glancing over my shoulder and back to my face so quickly, it was just a blur of blue. "Speaking of your classmates, have you spoken with Takigawa?"

I prickled. "Oh, and I'm supposed to give you all the details?"

He raised an eyebrow, then said, at the level of a buzzing, low murmur, "wish to hide your illicit, hot kinky sex, then?"

My jaw dropped and I put my fingers to my cheeks. "Oh Lord, Professor Davis just said the 's' word in front of his innocent student, where are we now? Sorry, Prof, I'm still an inexperienced virgin. All the broads are in the art department."

The twitching of his mouth gave way to a full smile and chuckle.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a few of the straggling girls pause at the doorway, falling silent. I put some extra space between the professor and I and folded my hands behind my back, all innocent-like. When they didn't move right away, I turned to give them a small smile and to inwardly wince at their gobsmacked faces. They blinked and hurried out, and with that, leaving us finally alone in the classroom.

"Maybe you shouldn't giggle so easily," I said, then biting my lip.

"Not my fault."

"Yeah, but I fear you're in danger of breaking hearts."

"And that's my problem?"

I felt a wisp of fingertips atop my knuckles, almost as though a ghost touched them. But I could see his smile still, and it sent my heartbeat straight to where his caress might or might not have been.

"Just tell me if you have a good reason for not telling me," I asked quietly, joking aside.

He met my gaze, and his eyes shivered from one of my eyes to the other. Something softened and bent in that gaze that made my insides heat exponentially and melt.

"I never want to hurt you," he said, again on the edge of a whisper. "And if I have any say in it, I never will. This time is no different."

I nodded and reached to my back pocket for my phone. "And Takigawa only sent me one message. He won't respond to anything else." I pulled it up and handed it to him.

His fingers definitely brushed mine this time as he took it.

**I can never forgive myself for what I did, Mai. I only wanted to make you happy. The stuff I did to you…I was only ever really intimate with one of my last girlfriends and that's what she liked. I didn't know any better, but it doesn't matter, because if I had just been paying more attention it would have been obvious. Please, don't look for me or try to get a hold of me. You won't ever have to put up with me again.**

He handed me the phone back.

"Are you okay with that?"

I stared down at the message, whatever heat had given me before gone cold.

"No," I said.

And there was a whole book in that single word. But then and there, 'no' was all I could have given. Because when I thought of Takigawa, I still thought of my closest friend, a wide smile, an echoing cry of "Yay! Rape van!," and a bag of chocolate Twizzlers.

After a space of quiet, Naru asked, "Are you angry with me?"

"No," I put my phone away. "It was just a misunderstanding."

He made a grumpy noise in his throat that made me think he was about to protest, but he only swept off his black briefcase/book bag and headed to the door, stuffing his other hand in the pocket of his slacks.

"Don't you have a Calculus class to get to?"

"Oliver Davis, I am twenty-years-old and can schedule my own life—"

"Twenty? I thought you were nineteen?"

I blinked. "Uh, my birthday was three weeks ago."

Now it was his turn to blink owlishly at me. "And you didn't tell me?"

I scoffed and adjusted my backpack. "Uh, you were just my weirdo professor who I had a suicidal moment with, why would I tell you my birthday? 'Hey, Professor Davis, today's my birthday! Can you buy me a cake?'"

And yet he still had the gall to look annoyed and offended.

"For Pete's sake, no wonder you have a hard time getting close friends."

I wrinkled my nose. "Yes, because you have so many."

He opened the door for me, at least. Yep. That's high levels of PDA right there.

"Besides," I said as he let the door swing shut behind us. "I didn't think you were into sappy things and dates like that. I can just see you now on the day of our first wedding anniversary. 'Anniversaries are just the commonwealth's excuse to get presents and have a cheap trick to make their significant other think they actually care.'"

I had reached the turning point in the hall, where sunlight poured in from the glass front doors, when I realized he wasn't following anymore. Usually, he'd at least give me a good-bye if he planned on walking off while I was talking. So I turned, frowning.

To find him staring at me with his eyebrows high and his lips parted.

"Wedding anniversary?" he said faintly.

"What?"

He closed his mouth, quickly going back to his resting, stony expression. "You just sounded so sure that it would happen."

"You think too much," I said, turning around and very pointedly ignoring the heat rising in my face.

When I got to the glass doors, he was back where he was supposed to be, right at my side, the sun adding much-needed color to his pale face and the bright blue of his eyes.

"On the contrary," he flashed me his smile, something that was growing less and less rare, and probably because he knew what it did to me. "I think just the right amount."

He was already several steps down the sidewalk and to the parking lot before I closed my mouth and ran after him.

"Don't you go acting like you're all that, you're still in trouble, Sir! Hey! I'm talking to you! I thought I said to stop smiling so much! Ugh, jerk!"

He didn't so much as wave back at me. Before I could catch up (curse his stupid longer legs), he was already in his little old gray car and backing out. I watched him go, pouting.

A few minutes later, my phone gave my butt cheek a massage.

**Naru:**

**I would remember our anniversary. And I will.**

The hidden message didn't hit me until half-way through Calculus an hour later. Needless to say, the professor was confused as to why I was so stunned over the answer 3.

**_Author's Note: _and that's the end of this segment! And it pretty well opens for another story, should it ever smack me in the face. I'm actually a little embarrassed that I'm on my third series of Ghost Hunt. First the Slenderman series, then the Cumin, and now these "Out of" series. X.X Anyways, thanks for your patience. I have to run and tend to my youngest baby now who is yelling angrily at the porch door on his belly. He can't crawl yet, but he scoots and rolls everywhere like a champ. The other one is currently six and singing to himself as he jams his toast. BTW, you won't find the Slenderman series. I took it down.**


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